


The Sea, The Shore, and the Sand

by queen_insane



Series: The Tale of Destiny [3]
Category: Black Sails, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Character Undeath, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant Until It's Not, Multi, OC POV, blatantly ignoring treasure island, eventual pirates of the caribbean magic, history is interesting but i don't know her, sea metaphors that loop back to being literal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_insane/pseuds/queen_insane
Summary: For almost a decade the age of piracy has rung golden, but all that changes when Caroline - recently bequeathed the title and powers of the Sea Goddess Calypso - is captured by the civilized world and branded a tool for their war - used against her will, and passed from ship to ship, from country to country, to protect their cargo from pirates.Now escaped, Caroline arrives in Nassau port with one goal - get her powers back. However she finds a second purpose when she inadvertently stumbles upon the war she prophesied so many years ago. Emboldened she becomes determined to win it - come hell or high water. And if she falls in love along the way? Well, that can’t be helped.Or: The literal and physical embodiment of the ocean falls into the laps of James Flint and John Silver, it doesn’t change much. Until it changes everything.
Relationships: Anne Bonny/Max, Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver/Original Female Character(s), Captain Flint | James McGraw/Original Female Character(s), Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton/John Silver, Charles Vane/Original Female Character(s), Eleanor Guthrie/Charles Vane, Elizabeth Swann/Original Female Character(s), Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner, James Norrington/Original Female Character(s), John Silver/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Tale of Destiny [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049327
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Part 1.1: The Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline arrives in Nassau port.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slight change in rating as we head into the rougher waters of Black Sails. From M to E (which does not stand for everyone).

Many years passed by the turning of the moon. The lap of the tide on the shore. Then Caroline was taken. The needle pressed against her hip. For two weeks she had sat on the hulk of a ship that acted the guardian for mountains of gold - used to fend off pirate ships - and feared one would belong to her father or her mother. Let out a breath every time the fear passed. Then Spain had declared their gold and fortune safe for a time. Passed her off to another ship, and then another ship, and another. Until they blurred in her mind. All but the first. All but that Man of War, and the small ship filled with gold it guarded. The Uraca. The Hulk. Caroline had watched as they all sat at their desks and wrote in their journals. About how to control her. How to - she shuddered at the word - own her.

A week ago she had become the tool of a small merchant ship that was willing to fight to the death to keep her. For a week she had sat in the brig, the sea far away from her. Blocked off by the anchor mark on her hip and hoped. She remembered years ago pouring a man a draught of beer. Their words as they discussed the merits of war. She wondered if now was the time. Felt that it might be. Felt that it might not be. Destiny, an ever changing thing.

So much had changed over the past numerous years. Pirates had grown in glory beyond her wildest imagination. Wherever she went, victory followed. But Caroline should have expected retaliation. Destiny always arrived. In the turn of the tide, in waves. The first wave had been when she had been freed by The Brethren Court. Pirates saving themselves from being wiped off a shrinking map. Their stand had been made and kept. The second wave had come when she had become. When she had died and shed her skin for this new one. A human body to contain her, to work her will through the oceans and the seas. But human bodies were fallible. Skin could be forced to remember. And the world could be relentless.

Caroline opened her eyes to the sound of yelling. She could not make all of it out down in the hold but she could still understand the message of it. There was a pirate ship on the horizon. Caroline grinned. It seemed like the luck of this merchant vessel had run out. She stood. If this vessel she was on wanted to have any chance of winning they would have to use her magic, and she was tired of playing by their rules. A lot had changed in the years since her birth, but a few things were the same and they had thought her broken thanks to the mark on her hip. She could hear Jack Sparrow whispering to her, telling her the story over and over, “Now -” he had held his hands up to show that the story was an important one, “And I want you to remember this because it’s saved my life on many an occasion. Savvy?” Caroline had scooted closer, “Half Barrel Hinges.”

She flipped over the bench the Captain had left in her cage and jimmied it under the door. At the sound of the first cannon she pushed and watched as the door clattered down on the ground. Just in time, because the door to the hold slammed open and two men came in swords drawn. The first one shouted her way and they were upon her. She ducked under the first swing of the sword and charged at him, wrapping her hands around his waist and ramming him onto the hull of the ship.

A second later a sword swung above her head and she barely missed having her head cut off. Instead it caught the other man in the throat, and Caroline had to scramble out of the way to keep the blood from coating her. Well, she couldn’t be too angry at this outcome. She picked up the sword he had dropped when his throat had been slit and didn’t waste a second of time to counter attack her remaining captor. They traded blows and the ship they were in rocked again as a cannon smashed through the wood above Caroline and the man she was fighting, making a mess of some of the wood of the brig.

The ship - whoever they were - was getting closer. The man had been distracted by the cannon as it flew past their heads but Caroline was less so. When she struck out his parry was weak and forced him off kilter. Her next sword stroke clipped him on the side, and the one after that opened a large gash in his arm. He began to wilt, and when Caroline grabbed his sword hand and moved in to get closer he wasn’t able to stop her from running him completely through.

The sound of a third cannon, this time almost next to the merchant ship altered Caroline to the fact that she had very little time to consider her options. Over the past ten years her names had lost a lot of their power save among those who knew, which had been, admittedly a choice as the likes of Will Turner and James Norrington faded into somewhat moderate obscurity. Finally. Or so they had thought - until about a little under five months ago - when Caroline had been taken. Pirates had also grown bolder as their golden age had only expanded. More ruthless too, although Caroline didn’t hate that as much as she had originally thought she would.

If these pirates found a woman with darker skin in a hold like this there were a few things they would do to her. The first would be killing her right out as useless cargo. The second, was that they would let her onto their crew. That was the best option. The third was that they would leave her on the ship with whatever crew they let live and that option was the absolute worst one and unfortunately the most likely. Caroline blew a raspberry and then made a hasty decision. Pulling one of the men over to her she dipped her finger into his still bleeding wound and coated the back of the shirt they had her in.

Then she put her hair back and put one of their hats over her head. The yelling was getting louder. The pirates had boarded. There was an explosion, a door somewhere on this ship being blasted open. Then she dropped to the floor face down, and lay utterly still. The door to the makeshift brig opened, a sliver of light, and two men came into the hold. She tucked her hands into her sleeves, and just in time. They looked around and then one of them yelled, “Nothing in here but a fight gone wrong! Must have been a bunch of cowards.”

“If there isn’t anything in there Dooley, then fucking leave it alone,” a second voice called out.

The door closed again and Caroline stood. Alone once more, she stole the belt and coat off the man whose throat had been slit. The coat was a rich black color and as such hid almost all the blood from when his throat had been cut. Her new coat would also do a good job of hiding the blood she had decorated the back of her shirt with. Done dressing, Caroline tucked the remaining bits of her hair under her hat, and hoped she looked enough like a feminie boy. She pressed her ear against the door and heard the sound of only chaos. Then she opened the door just a crack and found most of the men were facing away from her. One of them said loudly, “Would someone please help me with this?”

It thankfully wasn’t the same man as before. He was holding a large crate under his arm and failing to carry it up the stairs to the enjoyment of a number of men who were laughing at him, “I’ll help you!” Caroline said in the deepest voice she could manage.

“Thank fuck one of you is willing to lend a hand,” another one of the men laughed, “Stop laughing Logan, you’ll get yours if you don’t.”

Caroline joined him and together they managed to bring the crate up onto the main deck and then across the plank to the new ship. The whole time Caroline kept her face low, “I’ll bring it to the hold,” she told him.

“You’re a lifesaver boy.”

Caroline, far into her twenties, and with the blood and memories of an immortal goddess inside of her, did not feel like a boy. But if that let him keep the illusion she would allow it. She hefted the crate under her arm as he had and carried it down into the hold of the ship where she found another man with a journal and a pen shouting orders, “One more?”

He looked at her and then wrote something down in his book, “Put it with the rest of them.”

Taking the crate to the back of the hold Caroline set it on the ground, and then a voice called out down into the hold of the ship, “Dufresne, that should be the last of them. We’ve picked up all the new crew we can muster, and Captain says we’re pulling back.”

The man who Caroline now knew as Dufresne nodded at her, “I’m heading up for duties, you should come up when you’re done.”

She nodded and watched as his back turned. Instead of following Caroline sunk back into the cargo hold. It was not ideal, but she wouldn’t starve. Despite the mark on her, she was still immortal and could go for some time without a single bite of food. There was noise from the main deck and then the ship was away on the winds that Caroline could no longer feel.

\---

“May this mark bind you to the Kings of the new world,” the man above Caroline was saying as they drilled into her skin, hands holding her down, whatever they had given her to drink making her connection to the sea murky.

“Fuck you,” she spat at him.

“With this anchor - if the words are spoken by one who knows - your storms against enemies will be our storms, your kind winds our winds, the harvest of the sea our harvest. May you be made to serve our Kings and Queens forever more. May you never raise a hand against our kind again.”

The ink they hammered into her continued to pump into her bloodstream and Caroline screamed at the pain of it. But the storms that she called for did not come. She grew weak and her eyes traveled down to the intricate anchor tattoo before her mind went blank.

When she next woke she was sitting strapped to a chair in an unknown Captain’s Cabin. The door opened and a man came in holding a book, he was flipping through it staring at whatever was printed there, “Your instructions are far more complex than I was expecting,” he grinned, “But you’ll help keep our gold safe won’t you?”

He snapped the book closed and Caroline watched as he put in his towering shelf of books. She repeated its location in her mind over and over again. She would come back for it. She had to.

\---

Wherever they had captured the merchant ship that she had been held on must have been close to their favored port, because only a day or so later Caroline felt the boat begin to slow. She startled awake from a dream of the ocean and as men began talking above her, started to strip out of the clothing she was wearing. She had found an acceptable change of clothing in some of the storage containers in the hold as the ship had cut through the water, and she put those on quickly. The coat she had found had an even taller collar and she pushed this up towards her face and once again pulled her hat low. She grabbed one of smaller boxes and then plastered herself against the wall. A shaft of light broke into the storage hold and then a man walked in and walked out. Then a second man walked in with another. As they turned to pick something out Caroline slipped out on the deck of the ship. The sun hit her face and she found herself staring at the Port of Nassau.

She had been here - once. But that had been at the start of her journey with her father. A very long time ago. And she looked older now. The rest of her, as her father called it, baby fat - having melted away. She was a woman now in all ways. To her father’s discouragement. But after Peter had died Caroline had wanted to know. After she had known, she had decided that sex wasn’t terrible. In fact, she had found she rather enjoyed it. The rocking motion reminded her of the sea, “Boy!” It was the same man who she had helped carry the crate of, “Come on. We’ve got shore leave.”

“Be there in a second!” She called back.

They wouldn’t wait for her. Men in want of women going to shore never did. Instead she handed her box to one of the men, and then pushed her way through the men who were crowding around the rail to get into the rowboat. Free of them, she continued to explore this new ship that had unknowingly liberated her until she found a dark corner that she could hide in to wait. She didn’t know how long she would be in Nassau but she was not expecting rescue to come quickly. The last Caroline had heard of The Dutchman the ship was down in the lockers, near The Sea of the Dead. The only way it would come was if she called, and Caroline could not call. Her father’s ship too had last been heard of somewhere closer to Japan instead of The Caribbean. Gone to ground while she was in British hands. The last of course was The Empress but she was just one ship, and a mortal one at that. Caroline was on her own.

As the crew filtered out she remembered what her father had told her about Captains and their coin. Most Captains had a hidden stash of twelve pieces somewhere in their cabin. For if things on the ship went very sideways, and money grew tight. It was one of the few things shared between Pirate and English Captains. And Caroline intended to steal this one. After some time, once the crew departed to the shore, the door to the Captain’s quarters opened. Caroline only had a brief window to look at him, hardly enough to make an impression. Then he and his quartermaster too were gone, leaving Caroline alone on the ship. No one the wiser.

She climbed the steps out of the shadow on the gun deck, and back onto the main deck. Cautiously she slipped into his quarters. She searched efficiently making sure to put things back where she had found them, and cleaning up as she went. Finally she opened a drawer and found herself staring at a small drawstring bag. She grinned. She opened it, counted the coins, and then slipped it into the pocket of her outfit. Making sure that the room held no traces of her arrival she slipped out and back onto the main deck. She wouldn’t be able to breathe underwater but thankfully they were anchored not too far off from shore.

With a splash she fell into the water and began the short swim to the port. It felt good to be in the water again, even if she could hardly feel it’s call. So long since she had enjoyed it on her skin free of worry that she was sinking another pirate ship. Killing another friend. She reached shore and wrung water out from her clothes. Hardly any drier Caroline began to head for the only place she knew to go upon arrival to a lesser known port.

\---

The brothel in Nassau was prettier than the one in Tortuga, Caroline was forced to admit. Perhaps because it was also an inn of a sort. Everything was painted in a soft warm green color and vines twisted up the banister in the back. She wandered over to a chair and dropped down into it, water dripping everywhere. A woman came down the staircase fixing her dress, and her eyes landed on Caroline right away. Maybe it was because they looked somewhat the same or maybe it was because Caroline looked like a wet dog, but she found her way to Caroline instantly, “How may I help you?”

The woman spoke with a French accent. Caroline dug out the coin purse and took out one coin, and placed it on the table, “Will this get me a room here?”

“A room at the brothel?” The woman crossed her arms in front of her chest, “Not many women would choose to stay here knowing the sort of business that we conduct. Less they get mistaken for one of us.”

“I find nothing detestable about that sort of business,” Caroline answered, “And I find the company of women highly enjoyable,” the woman raised an eyebrow, “Not like that,” Caroline covered, “Although I’m not one to judge.”

“One coin for one night,” the woman slid the coin across the table and stashed it somewhere inside her dress.

“And if I helped out around the place tonight? Made sure the men were well enough behaved?”

“I’d say I’d like to see you try,” the woman was smiling now, “Max.”

That had been an introduction, “Caroline,” she left her last name off, even if most people no longer knew, it wouldn’t do her any good if she stumbled into someone who did know, “Two people with only one name. It must be destiny.”

“Or just bad luck,” Max straightened the chair in front of her, “I will tell one of the girls to prepare you a room for tonight.”

As she walked away Caroline had begun shuffling through a plan. The first thing she needed to do was to befriend a Captain. Any would do, but she was hoping that she could find one who appeared powerful. Wouldn’t do to put her fate in the hands of one who could not defend her. The next thing she needed to do was to find one who was crazy enough to go after The Urca Gold. It wasn’t the ship that held the gold that she needed, but the Man of War that sailed beside her. The great protector. There were books on that ship that had acted as her jailer, that Caroline desperately needed. The first part of her plan seemed, not easy, but doable enough. The second part thought - the second part would need a bit of polishing. Pirates were treasure hungry but they weren’t stupid.

The second they knew The Hulk of a ship that protected The Urca was a Man of War they would balk. And Caroline could not have that. The fate of piracy depended on them being just out of the know enough to do it. She didn’t have much else of a plan figured out. Like how she would get on board, or how she would get into the Captain's Quarters to raid his books for the one she was looking for, but Caroline was nothing but adaptable. She’d figure out the rest while she went.

Until then she had a little bit of digging to do. It was time to figure out just where the residents of this port lay in terms of allegiances and strengths. And she had to do it quickly. Time was very much of the essence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last story in a trio, in the first two there was very little Black Sails crossover, this one is almost all Black Sails. This story follows along with canon up until a point - and you'll know the point when you get there. Unlike the first two this one is heavily inspired by Black Sail's grounded gritty nature (despite the eventual use of magic), there will be some Pirate tonal elements but not for awhile. 
> 
> This story takes place at the exact same time period and year that Black Sails starts (1715). So all the timeline shifting for Pirates worked out. Somehow.
> 
> Caroline has done a lot of growing since we saw her last, she still has some growing to do here, but she comes into this story as a whole person with her own wants and desires. I like to imagine Silver is somewhere saying "it's that easy to sneak on a ship?" somewhere. But what can you do?
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	2. Part 1.2: The Captains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a captain was like trying on a new coat, Caroline had to find the right one.

That afternoon the streets of Nassau were alive and bustling. With a number of coins in her pocket, Caroline walked the dusty roads until she came upon a small shop. The outfit she had on was fine, but it was still men's clothing and didn’t fit quite right. The chance of finding any sort of clothing that fit her perfectly was very small but she still wanted some pants that hopefully didn’t dwarf her legs. She also needed - Caroline's mind provided - a pistol. The sword on her hip that she had stolen from the merchant vessel would do fine for now, although once she had enough coin she did hope to replace it.

With these thoughts in mind she entered the merchant store and looked around. For a place among the chaos of piracy it was cozy. Clothing was hung on posts and folded on tables. She wandered among the wares until she found a pair of pants that looked like they would fit, and a black shirt that was cleaner than the one she wore now. It would also, she noted, not show blood as much as a white one would. She picked all three up, along with a worn pair of boots and a thick belt that had a place to store a gun and a sword.

She brought these items over to the woman who was sitting at the table inside the store, “These will do.”

The woman looked up at her and looked over the items that she was holding, “That’s quite a lot, and those boots are in good condition. Do you have the coin to pay for all that?”

Caroline dug into her still drying pants and pulled out the coin purse. She counted out ten coins and laid them on the table. For a second she thought about giving this woman the last of her coin, but she held onto it. One never knew when they needed a spare coin. Either to bribe the living or pay off the dead. The woman looked them over and then looked at her, “Is that enough?”

It was much more than one would normally pay for clothing such as these, and the coins were in good order. The woman held the coin up to the light and then nodded, “Enough for me,” then she said, “You must be new at this pirating thing miss, anyone would have known that I just ripped you off.”

“Or,” Caroline smiled, “I don’t care as much for coins as some pirates. And you must be new too, if you feel brave enough to say that out in the open.”

The woman barked out a laugh, “You’ve got me there. But you just look so bedraggled and poor. It stirred something in my trading heart.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Caroline warned her good-naturedly, “But I am fine letting the money go,” she winked, “It’s not like it’s mine anyway.”

“That’s the kind of attitude I like to hear.”

“Do you have a place I could change away from prying eyes?”

“In the back,” the woman pointed to a door.

Caroline thanked her and then ducked into the room which was more like a closet of sorts. She didn’t even think it was for changing, thanks to the clothing that was folded on the shelves and the other odds and ends. As she put her new outfit on, pants, boots, shirt, belt, she realized that she hadn’t saved enough money for the pistol. Letting out a sigh she considered her options and then decided that if she needed one, one would present itself. Hopefully. Everyone carried a pistol these days. She tucked her sword into the slot in her belt that was made for it, and took a deep breath at the warmth of the new clothing.

It wouldn’t last. It never did on The Caribbean, but for now it felt nice to just be in clothing that fit. When she stepped out the woman was holding another item of clothing, “I decided that I owed you for not ratting me out on being a bit of a thief,” she handed it to Caroline, “Picked out a nice vest I thought would be good for ya.”

The vest was a deep blue color and fit nicely over Caroline’s chest, making the shirt, which was still just a tad too loose, fit snugly around her chest, “Thank you for your hospitality,” Caroline told her honestly.

“Well, you won’t be getting much of that anywhere else but the brothel so I thought what’s a little good service to grease the mouth and get you talking into ears.”

Caroline tipped her sword in the woman’s direction,, “I’ll be seeing you.”

“And I you.”

Stepping back out into the streets of Nassau Caroline felt like a far more put together person. And far more ready to deal with whatever came.

\---

The brothel was packed to the brim with people that night it seemed. Men coming out to get their dicks wet, and not much more. She walked down the stairs from her room where she had been sitting on her balcony, watching the people mill about the town. Letting the activity wash over her. Down in the brothel she found a spot at the only empty table. A man holding a mug of rum passed her by and knocked into her chair sending some of his rum down onto her lap. Caroline sighed as Max walked over to her table, “Not to your liking?”

Caroline laughed, “The women are fine. I just wish he would have apologized. Or even noticed. Not that I was expecting it from a man who was so red he might as well have been one of The King’s rubies.”

In front of her Max fought a smile, but against her better wishes Caroline watched it blossom across her face, “Well you missed quite a scene before your arrival. It’s too bad, I may have gotten to see you help control the men as you said you could.”

There was the slam of a door and then a man walked out onto the balcony above them and Caroline looked up. He seemed to stand there, watching over the brothel before he came downstairs and pulled out the chair directly across from her. It scraped noisily across the floor. He was broad in the shoulders, strong by the looks of it, and he growled at her, “What?”

This person had to be the cause of the scene Max had mentioned, “Nothing,” she said as she continued to eye him, “Get into a fight with one of the women?”

“The women here are well behaved,” Max told her.

Caroline smiled, “Didn’t say it was one of yours.”

With a snort, Max took her leave of them, weaving into the crowd to find a suitable target. The way she moved among the men reminded Caroline of Giselle back in Tortuga. Purposeful, and with the ability to make men fall under her spell. A queen among her subjects. Caroline made a note to watch out for her, “What’s it to you that I fought with a woman,” the man’s voice was low and threatening.

“Nothing at all,” she eyed him further and picked through the way he had commanded the space and attention when the door had slammed open, “Captain -” the last bit she left him to fill.

“Charles Vane.”

The name stirred something in Caroline and she did her best to stamp it out but she could not. The sea wanted what it wanted. And this - her mind provided, was Teach’s boy. Her old mentor hadn’t talked about Vane much on their shared voyage over to Tortuga many years ago, but later when they had met in different ports he had spoken of him. Some of it had been unkind, but most of it was full of love and pride. Despite what had happened between them. Despite Vane choosing a woman over his attempts at pirate parenting.

Caroline had envisioned him then, in her head. Meeting Vane now was a completely different feeling. Caroline smiled, “Caroline,” she left her last name to stand alone because Charles Vane might know who she was, even if it was just by last name.

“You’re new port,” Vane grunted out. He had her dead to rights. Which meant that this port was his home, for better or worse, “Yet here you are, thinking you already understand me”

Giselle had always said that there were two ways to know the measure of a man in a brothel, the first of course was Giselle’s favorite - sex. The other was how he acted when he was drunk. Caroline had a feeling that Charles Vane could hold at least some measure of his liquor and that her mere presence had tempered any sort of desire he had to get completely wasted. And, Caroline hated getting drunk. Tipsy sure, but not enough to leave her with no memories the next day. Which left, “Captain's command space, and you commanded space when you came in. The men saw your anger and they paused for just a second.”

She leaned back in her chair, just a little. Just enough to show that she was open to vulnerabilities. Men liked when women were open to them, Scarlett had told her as Giselle sat on Teach’s lap, her legs straddling his. Open yourself up enough and you’ve got them, “My anger was justified.”

Hook the bait. Reel it in when you’ve got them, “I can think of other things to do with anger.”

Vane raised an eyebrow, “You’re not one of the women working here.”

“I don’t need to be to enjoy my time at port.”

She stood and began to walk to the staircase to return to her room. When she glanced back Vane was hot on her heels. With a smirk that he could not see, she walked down the long balcony and opened the door to the room she had been given.

The second the door was closed behind them he was upon her. Large hands cupping her hips, turning her so they were face to face. Direct then. But that tracked considering the sort of man he had been downstairs. Caroline let him direct her to the bed, no need to push when he so clearly wanted to lead. His fingers made deft work of the strings on her shirt, and then he was pulling it up and over her head. The fabric brushing against her skin.

His lips found her breast and he began pressing wet kisses into the flesh there. Trying to sear his mark into her skin. Caroline clutched at his head, her fingers tangling in his long hair, gripping onto him as his hand wandered down to undo the buckle of her belt, before his fingers continued their journey, slipping down into her pants until they pressed against her sex, rubbing until Caroline were sure his fingers were drenched in her.

Courteous too, at least to some extent.

Caroline groaned, and then groaned again when he hooked a finger inside of her. Continued to rub along with the press of his finger. One of her hands curled in the fabric of his shirt. They clenched tighter when he added a second finger and continued to fuck her with them. Caroline felt her hips move in time to meet the demands of his thrusts, tiny breathy moans escaping from her mouth.

Caroline pulled his head off her chest, where it continued to lavish kisses upon her breast, and starred him in the eyes, “Enough, pants off.”

He grinned at her, eyes hooded, “Yours or mine?”

Those were the words that Caroline liked to hear.

\---

Caroline woke to the sun peaking through the curtains and shimmed off the bed to begin gathering her clothing. As she did Vane stirred. He pulled himself up the bed, sheet slipping down to his hip as he tucked his arm behind his head to look at her, “Running off?”

“If I must admit, I’m hungry. And I’m not going to find food in your bed unfortunately,” she shrugged on her shirt.

“Not enough to make you love me then,” he chuckled.

Caroline pulled up her pants and tightened her belt which had somehow ended up all the way across the room, “Disappointed?”

“A little,” he snorted.

She grabbed her sword and vest, putting the later on before tucking her sword away. Then she threw her boots on and walked to the door, “Don’t be,” she smiled, “I had a good time.”

Then she pulled the door open to his self satisfied smirk. Down in the brothel women were already out and about cleaning it for the mornings activities. No, Caroline did not love Charles Vane, she would probably never love Charles Vane in that way. But she had the measure of him now, and she was pleased. He wasn’t a good man. He had taken her roughly near the end, and not because she had asked, although she had enjoyed it. But he was the sort of man who would strike terror into the hearts of The English, for as long as he sailed and that was good enough for Caroline. There was comradery to be found between them in shared words and shared fervors.

She just hoped that the whole thing hadn’t been a gigantic mistake.

As she emerged, Max looked up at her from the table she was cleaning, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Caroline smiled at her.

“I think you lost your bet in handling the men.”

Caroline picked an apple from the bowl that Max had placed on the table, “Did I? Charles Vane seemed ready to get incredibly wasted last night, and maybe a little too rough with the women,” she took a bite out of the apple, “And yet none of that theater played out.”

Max stared after her as she walked into the street. Now all Caroline had to do was lay low, gather information and - a man bumped into her and turned. It was one of the same men who she had helped with moving boxes. He narrowed his eyes upon seeing her and then broke into a smile, “You’re one of the new crew right? Come on, we’re going to vote on a new captain.”

“I don’t think -”

“Everyone needs to be there,” he had slowed his pace so he could walk alongside her, “No exceptions.”

Well, it seemed that she wasn’t getting out of this one. She followed him to shore and into the dinghy that took them back the same way Caroline had come when she had arrived at Nassau. On the ship, Caroline did her best to blend into the crowd. To make herself as inconspicuous as possible. While this man didn’t know she had hidden onboard, there was sure to be someone on this boat who did. In front of her men gathered around to stare down into the gun deck at The Captain Caroline had only glimpsed at before.

He had fiery red hair tied back roughshod behind his head with a ribbon and was contemplating all of them as they watched on. He began to speak and his voice was a solid sturdy thing, “I'm sorry.”

Interesting start.

“For the short hauls. For the trouble I've caused. But most importantly, for the disregard it seems I've shown you,” he paused for effect, “The most important element of a healthy ship is trust. Trust between men. Trust between captain and crew. Without it, a ship is doomed,” Caroline wondered what his apology was leading to, it hovered just out of reach, “For the past few months, you and I have been on the trail of a prize so rich, it could upset the very nature of our world,” there was only one prize that Caroline could think of that he could be talking about - but the thought that his prize and hers were the same - it was so impossible it had to be true.

He continued to speak to the crew, his voice growing more impassioned, “And for that reason, I felt it necessary to keep it secret. I didn't trust you. And that was my mistake. Right now I would like to tell you that that prize is within our grasp and we are close. So close. But it would appear that my concerns about secrecy had merit. Someone on this crew discovered my plans…”

He held up a book that Caroline knew at once. The merchant had held it as he added her to their list of cargo. Better to list a person as an item if you didn’t want someone to know what you carried. However - if that log truly held the answers that she sought - the idea that the answer could be so close at hand, it made her body hum, “And tore from this log the very page necessary to discover that prize. Stole it for their own gain. Stole it from us. And then stoked your resentment to cover his crime... and make himself your captain,” he turned towards one of the men.

The rest of the conversation faded and Caroline’s mind was already whirling. Already turning over trying to figure out how she could befriend this man. It would be hard, she could see distrust in his eyes. Not just for the crew or man he was about to duel but distrust for the whole world. Someone - or someones - had wronged him. But there was always an angle. She leaned forward just a bit more - entranced - watched as they began removing jackets. As this man’s came off it revealed a well muscled body, not as stocky as the man he was to fight, but it was sturdy. Powerful. They drew swords. This was to be a trial for the perceived crime of stealing the page.

The fight was brutal. More brutal than perhaps anything Caroline had ever seen. Grunts and curses. So much rage between the two of them. Aggression drawn to its highest peak and spilled over the ground of the gun deck. Blood stained the boards of the ship, the steel of their swords, the cannonball that The Captain had used to crack open the skull of the perceived thief. However by the end of it this captain - this unknown man stood - blood of his victim smeared on his shirt, and fingers. Covered in his own, around his mouth, leaving a trail up into his hair. It had been exhilarating to watch. Caroline’s heart pounded in her chest.

He handed something - a white page to one of the men. A pause. A nod.

The Captain stood from the fight and despite his exhaustion, began to speak once more. His voice sounded as if, the crack of a pistol in the dark, “Friends, brothers… The prize that you and I have been pursuing... is L'Urca de Lima. The Hulk. A prize of almost unimaginable value,” hearing him speak the truth Caroline had inferred made the hairs on her arm stand up, like the first warning of gathering dark clouds, “Now with this page securely in our possession, we can begin our hunt. And we will succeed no matter the cost. No matter the struggle. I will see that prize is yours. I'm not just gonna make you rich,” Caroline hardly had a thought for the money, “I'm not just gonna make you strong. I'm gonna make you the princes of the New World.”

Inside of her chest Caroline’s heart squeezed tightly. Her hands were shaking. Even if she could not hear the rush of the ocean inside her blood, even if she could not feel as ships sunk, and storms began to brew - she was still deep down - in a place the English had tried to steal from her - had locked behind walls and battlements and tattoo ink - she was still Calypso. She was still the goddess of the sea and she could hear the contempt for England in his voice. Could hear it in the outraged timber of his voice. The rumble and roar of the sea.

Around her the men began to cheer, putting a name on the face of the man in front of her, “Flint! Flint! Flint!” They cried.

This Caroline understood, this Flint, was not just a man. He was her war. Her coming storm. Here was a man - Caroline breathed in the air of the ocean - that she could come to love. At long last she had found him. Her Captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated for the longest time if I should keep the scene between Vane and Caroline and if I really wanted them to sleep together - but I think it's incredibly important to their overall relationship. And I think it works as a contrast between Vane and Flint. Where Caroline had to sleep with Vane to know if he was her captain or not before she decided. Whereas she hardy needed the same for Flint, all she needed was to him in action and hear him speak and she knew that he was hers. 
> 
> Also despite the fact that they sleep together first, I don't consider the relationship between Vane and Caroline romantic. Or at least - Caroline doesn't. Their fervors as Caroline describes them, are of a different sort.
> 
> Giselle and Scarlett are the two harlots from Pirates, and played a larger role in the second story. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Part 1.3: The Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline makes her pitch, and grows her list of allies.

The three men disappeared into the captain's cabin after Flint had killed the unknown man which was good for Caroline because it let her get her bearings back just a little. To sort through the emotions she had just gone through. She would need Calypso eventually, but not now. Not with this man. Put the goddess away, put the magic of the sea away. Try to focus on the problem at hand. Finding The Urca. Getting on The Man of War. Finding the book she needed to read before anyone knew its content. Protecting herself, so she could protect everyone else later. Just thinking about all the planning she would have to do made her brain want to jump ship. Caroline hated plans. But she couldn’t. She had to press forward, destiny had long foretold a war. And Flint was the key to all of that.

Around her the men had begun to chatter excitedly, and the one who had brought her aboard stared at her with a dazed expression on his face. It was the face of a man who could only see coins and not the bigger picture, hadn’t heard anything about becoming strong or becoming a prince. About their new world. Who didn’t care that just out of sight The Kings of the Other New Word were searching for her, and if they found her, piracy would well and truly be over. Caroline’s lips thinned without her say so and the man, despite his excitement seemed to know that something was wrong, “You okay?”

“Wonderful actually,” she answered with as much conviction as she could muster, refusing to let her smile falter.

He squinted, looking at her closer, “You know, I don’t remember picking up a woman pirate back on the merchant ship.”

“You must have not been paying much attention,” Caroline said by way of explanation, “But you did.”

He shook his head, “No, that’s the sort of thing you’d remember.”

The door to the captain’s cabin opened again and Flint and the other man walked back out and their eyes scanned over the crowd in front of them. They were looking for someone. For a brief moment their eyes landed on her and then continued on. She followed where they were looking and how their gaze had settled on a man with long black hair and a fair complexion. Flint’s - Caroline assumed now by how he followed the man everywhere - quartermaster, began to slowly approach. Delicately. However it was a foolhardy effort and the man they were tracking was wiley. With a splash he leapt into the sea,“That kid must really want to get laid.”

The crew laughed and then Caroline turned to the man, “As you can see the captain looked directly over me. So so maybe you just don’t have the memory you remember.”

“Maybe I don’t.’

The man Flint was after started swimming to shore rather quickly, as if the devil was after him. But, Flint had already begun to board a rowboat after him. Caroline tracked their movement until they reached the shore and then watched where they walked until they faded into the crowd. A plan had already started to hatch in her brain about just what she was going to do. But first, first Caroline needed to get off this ship. Hopefully sooner rather than later, because time was pressing. And the quicker she got on Flint’s side the better.

It didn’t even need to be his good side. Just a side.

\---

About fifteen minutes after Flint’s own rowboat had touched the sands, Caroline stepped back into the port town proper with only one thing on her mind. She needed a dress. A woman, Giselle had said, is always more appealing to a man in a dress. Men also tended to underestimate women in dresses. The more you can unsettle a man, the better negotiations will be. In this case she had meant sex, but Caroline was sure it would prove true for other things as well. She could go back to the vendor but that seemed like a bad idea. Their first encounter had been pleasant, but another one may not return the same results. And Caroline only had one coin left. A coin that she needed.

Instead she cut through the crowd and returned to the brothel. Looking over the people she tried to find Max but the woman was nowhere to be seen. Instead she saw an older motherly grey haired woman, someone she knew she had seen Max talking to a great deal the past day or so. It wasn’t who she wanted but it would have to do. She ducked around a few men trying their best to woo women who only saw them for the coins in their purse, and then came face to face with this new person. A person that for the brief interaction they had, needed to become Caroline’s new best friend, “May I help you?”

Caroline plastered the biggest smile of her life on her face, “I need a dress.”

The gray haired woman picked up a mug of rum, smelled it, and then poured it on the floor, “For free?”

“I was hoping so,” Caroline admitted, “It doesn’t even have to be a nice dress. Just something simple to slip on.”

“Max did say you did us a favor with Charles Vane last night,” she gestured to one of the other women, “Can you get this -”

“Caroline.”

“Can you get Caroline a dress? Nothing fancy, we’re not trying to impress a man. Just something.”

The woman she had called over looked Caroline up and down, and then nodded. She disappeared up the steps and then came back with a simple brown dress with a large belt that would hug at the waist. It was, Caroline decided, actually exactly what she needed, “Thank you.”

“No need to be thanking me when we gave you the worst we had.”

“Sometimes one person’s worst is good enough, I’ll find a way to repay this somehow,” she looked up at the balcony, “Is my room still available?”

“Until the end of the day.”

That was exactly what Caroline wanted to hear. With a tip of her head, she returned to her room and stripped down before pulling the dress over her frame and snugly securing the belt. It would have to do. Her effects she wrapped in a sheet and then stuck in the closet across the way. It wouldn’t do to get newly purchased things stolen if some man stumbled into her room. Not that she thought he might, but one could never be sure. These were pirates.

\--

On the street she made a few inquiries about the last known location of Captain Flint. A few men seemed a bit worried that she was looking for him - because who in their right mind sought out a man like Captain Flint - but they were happy to pass on information anyway and eventually, through enough questioning Caroline was able to pull a location. There was a tavern across the way from the brothel, people said. They had seen him come in and head into the back office with Miss Guthrie. A name Caroline recognized as the one who had used Vane to con Teach off the island. First name Eleanor. If she recalled.

Inside the tavern was well lit. Large windows let in a massive amount of light and tables dotted the floor. The walls were a brick red color and actual bricks ran up support beams. On the side wall there was a double door flanked by two men who were not moving, and seemed to be glowering at anyone who came close to the door. With an air of meaning to be there, but only in so much that she had come for a drink Caroline began to weave through the tables, and picked up a tankard of rum as she went. Despite knowing that other men had mostly likely tasted it, she took a sip and kept walking.

Closer now to the door she continued her act until she was right against the wall next to where the door was. Here she came to rest, looking out over the men gathered for drinking while her ear turned inward to the conversation that was happening inside. They were talking, and the more Flint talked the more Caroline knew that he was the one she had felt the tug of destiny towards so many years ago. Flint talked about the gold, about using it to fortify the port, about how the port would stand as a safe haven for pirates. For free men. And then Flint said something that truly caught her ear, “Odysseus, on his journey home to Ithaca, was visited by a ghost. The ghost tells him that once he reaches his home, once he slays all his enemies and sets his house in order, he must do one last thing before he can rest. The ghost tells him to pick up an oar and walk inland. And keep walking until somebody mistakes that oar for a shovel. For that would be the place that no man had ever been troubled by the sea. And that's where he'd find peace. In the end, that's all I want. To walk away from the sea and find some peace.”

Caroline stared down into her cup of rum and took another sip. It was a beautiful and well meaning story. But the truth, which she and only she alone knew, was that the sea was everywhere. In each drop of rain, in the fish that men inland ate, in the eyes of men marooned so far ashore who dreamed of freedom.

As her mind cleared, Captain Flint’s quartermaster walked through the crowd of people and barged into the meeting. Words were exchanged and a few moments later Eleanor came out, signaled to one of the men to follow her. As the doors shut behind her Caroline waited a beat to make sure that Captain Flint was not following and then pushed the doors open into the room Eleanor had come from.

The room was a well furnished office, it turned out. Not exactly one that was opulent, but well decorated enough. However Caroline didn’t have time to take in the sights. The second she entered all eyes turned towards her, “Who,” Flint said, “The fuck are you.”

Caroline wandered over to the empty chair across from Flint and sat down on it. She wanted to prop her feet up on the small table in front of her, but resisted. It would come off as a move of power. Nonchalance. It was better to appear diminutive, or at least somewhat trustworthy. Especially since she was about to jump into terrible hot, no good water, “I’m the one who stole your twelve pieces,” she pulled out the coin purse and tossed it to him.

He caught it and opened the bag, glancing inside. He pulled out the lone remaining coin and held it between his index and middle finger, examining it, “You’re also the one who seems to have spent my twelve pieces. At a rather alarming rate, considering we have only been shored up for two days.”

“Yes,” Caroline admitted, “I did need a change of clothes after stowing aboard your ship. And a place to stay.”

This did not impress him, although Caroline was not here to impress, as much as she wanted him to like her. Desired it deep down in her heart where her truth lay. This was about getting her foot in the door, “You stowed aboard my ship, without me noticing, and without my crew noticing?” He raised an eyebrow, “You have a staggering amount of impudence showing your face to me now.”

“Well one of them noticed, eventually,” she quipped back, “Your crew isn’t completely helpless.”

The quartermaster seemed flabbergasted, “Are you looking for him to kill you? Because I don’t know if you’ve realized madam but you’ve put yourself in a very precarious situation.”

“I’m telling him this,” she mostly ignored his indignities, “Because I want you to ask when I stowed aboard your ship.”

“The only ship we had contact with recently was the merchant ship,” the quartermaster filled in.

“I was a prisoner on their ship,” she filled in the rest of the gaps, “I had been for about a week or so. But far before that, I was on another ship. Passed from it, to others, to where I now sit before you.”

“You’re saying you’ve been aboard The Urca,” Flint leaned forward, “That’s what you’re trying to lead me to believe.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth but it was close enough to it that she let him believe it. Now they were getting somewhere, “Not exactly,” Caroline told him with a grin, “I’m telling you I know what The Urca looks like. I’m telling you I’ve seen it. With my eyes.”

Flint snorted but rubbed at his beard, “And why should I believe you?”

“Why else would I tell you that I’d stolen from you?”

Sometimes it was easier to lead people to make the leaps in logic themselves. Something about helping someone find an answer, made them more likely to believe it was true, “Because you believe you can repay the debt with the prize we find stashed away upon The Urca,” Flint confirmed and Caroline’s grin widened.

“To be honest I don’t even want the gold. You can have my share for all it’s worth to you.”

Caroline had stopped caring about gold a long time ago. Somewhere between the enormous stash that her father had amassed over the years, and becoming someone who did not need money to truly live the sort of life she wanted to live. Being a goddess made you care less about material things.

By the way Flint sat back in his chair Caroline knew it had been the right thing to say. More money meant that he would have more funds to protect the port. If it even came to that. Because what Caroline wasn’t going to say - refused to deluge the knowledge of - was that it was indeed a Man of War that followed The Urca around like a whispered curse, “So then what angle do you have for chasing a ship such as The Urca? If not her gold.”

“To be on the crew when you find her. To be part of the crew that ends her. Simple as that.”

Flint seemed to be considering her proposition, hand still stroking at the hairs of his beard. Caroline watched him through narrow eyes and now, only now, did she put her feet up on the table. As they thunked on the wood he looked up at her, “Deal. But there’s something you must know first.”

\---

The page with the schedule was missing. Or had been missing, stolen by the man who Caroline had watched them chase off the ship the morning earlier. Now they had the schedule but it was tucked neatly into the same man’s memory. The actual page it was on long burned. Caroline also thankfully, had names for people besides Flint, which helped a great deal if she were honest. She had gotten tired of calling Gates the quartermaster, and Silver the man with the schedule, in her head.

Now it was dark and she stood above on a small hill watching the men celebrate down below. Whoops of joy reached her ears and the cries sounded like music. They were so happy. Their merry making fueled her. Their freedom. If there was to be a war - this was what she wanted to preserve. Caroline wrapped her arms around herself as a warm wind caused the bumps on her skin to raise.

The whinny of a horse startled her, and she looked up into grey green eyes that were impossible to misconstrue as anyone else, “What are you doing up here, so far away from the good cheer and wassailing?” Flint’s voice cut through the night like a knife.

“Contemplating my choices for sleeping residences now that I have no money,” Caroline answered.

“For someone who said they don’t care about gold, you seem to have run into quite a foul dilemma without it.”

Caroline uncrossed her arms, letting them relax by her sides, “I’ve found answers come to me when I least expect them.”

There was a pause and the sounds from the celebration below grew louder between them. They continued to stare at each other and then Flint said, in a voice that sounded as if he had made a choice he didn’t like, “I can’t have the person who knows what The Urca looks like sleeping in the bushes,” Caroline grinned, “Don’t make me come to regret this.”

He didn’t help her climb onto the horse behind him. If he had he would have been far too great of a gentleman, and Caroline feared her interest in him would have waned. He also stiffened when she wrapped her hands around his midsection to help her settle on the horse as it took off into the night. They said nothing the whole ride and Caroline did not mind it. It reminded her of a becalmed sea. Not kind to pirates, but a beautiful sight to behold anyway.

Eventually they came upon a small white house tucked away further on the island. It had a well tended garden in front of it, and was not exactly what Caroline had pictured when she thought about Flint’s living situation. Although now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure what she had pictured. She slid off the horse and Flint followed. Before they entered he turned to her, “Whatever you see or hear in this house you don’t speak a word of it to anyone, do you understand?”

“Of course.”

Caroline was actually far better at keeping secrets than Flint had yet to perceive, “Good.”

He nodded, once again confirming to Caroline that meeting him in a dress had been the right thing to do, despite having changed back into her pants and boots. Flint thought her a woman first. Then a pirate. And sometimes to men, that made a great deal of a difference. Now Caroline held no illusions that Flint didn’t think that women could be just as deadly, or as underhanded. But first impressions were important. He opened the door and Caroline came face to face with Miranda Barlow for the first time, although she did not yet know her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still almost no Silver. But we are getting there I promise! Just slowly. I love that Flint's first words to Caroline are "who the fuck are you". I hope their first interaction felt authentic. I take a lot of pain to make dialogue feel as natural to the show as possible so there's never a disconnect when slipping between dialogue in the show and dialogue I've written. One of the things I love about Caroline is how bold she is, even if I think it's also one of her biggest weaknesses too. Lots of doing things with only a little foresight, and hoping it works out. 
> 
> It's also taken me a long time to get through the first few episodes but from here on out to the end of part one, things will speed up a little. It takes awhile to set the stage for every part.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	4. Part 1.4: The Partnership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline bonds with Silver, and deepens her understand of Flint.

The next morning Caroline woke and stared up at the ceiling of what she hoped would be her semi-permanent abode for the time being. Miranda had taken to her as nicely as a woman to whom Caroline had been thrust upon. They would be cordial to each other Caroline realized, although maybe never particularly friendly. That sort of camaraderie would be enough Caroline hoped. Uncle Will and her father were friends, despite her mother’s relationship with Aunt Elizabeth. Love could take many forms. Be shared between more than one person. Caroline turned over in bed and tried to compel those thoughts away. It wouldn’t do her any good to ponder what a relationship with Flint would be like when they were hardly close to anything more than just casual acquaintances who had also just met, and who also were after the same ship.

There was nothing between them.

Not yet. Her mind whispered, and Caroline stamped the traitor of a thought down while also sitting up in bed. She could hear movement from the kitchen. Quiet conversations that carried through the small home. Caroline didn’t mean to overhear but in such a small house, it was hard not to. Hard also to turn her ear away from any information that she could gleam. As she dressed she caught small snippets of the exchange - the name of the book Flint had stolen from the merchant vessel for Miranda - and then something a bit more peculiar. Not the name of the schedule no, but a reference to it. By the tone in Miranda’s voice she seemed just as pleased as she was disappointed that Flint had found it. Interesting.

At the tail end of their conversation Caroline stepped into the kitchen, eyes staring straight ahead as she walked over to the tea kettle to pour herself something to drink, “Good morning.”

They turned to look at her as if they had both forgotten she had even been in the house that night, “Good morning,” Miranda offered as a kindness.

Neither of them were going to ask how much Caroline had overheard, so Caroline offered it freely. There was no need for secrets, not among them, and Caroline had little care for what motivated Flint to do what he did beyond the fact that they hopefully both continued to want the same thing, “So she knows then,” Caroline said casually.

Flint looked at her and their eyes met over the top of her teacup as Caroline took a sip. They were not kind eyes, but they were also not the eyes of someone plotting her immediate demise. Currently at least, “So you did overhear.”

“The walls can be very thin,” she told him, “And voices do carry. I’m hardly bothered by it.”

There was a cry from outside and Caroline shifted her attention to the sound as Miranda stood up, followed closely by Flint. Caroline did not follow and continued to sip her tea. Another few minutes passed and then Flint returned with Gates, a body hung between them. Caroline didn’t say anything but instead arched an eyebrow as they carried him through the house and deposited him somewhere out of her eyesight. Flint returned to the kitchen and stared at her, “Don’t say a fucking word.”

“Interesting morning activities,” she commented, “That’s all.”

“You’re coming into town with me,” he told her, “Just so we can get this business with Silver squared. Then you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

That seemed a command as much as any, so Caroline finished drinking her tea, set the cup down on the table - and then after thanking Miranda for the tea - joined Flint outside.

\---

Silver was - Caroline wasn’t exactly sure. It was hard for her to get a good reading on him. He reminded her a bit of sand in that way. Easy to look at, beautiful in theory, but good at slipping through your fingers if you didn’t have a strong grasp on it. Thankfully, Caroline was very good at making sand hold its shape on shore. A little water on sand could be a very good thing. And, more importantly, a strong tide was all that was needed to pull the sand into the sea. Trapping it there. So Caroline was less worried about the fact that he seemed like a consummate liar and more worried about the fact that his smile, charming and deceitful as it was, reminded her of Peter. Of how her lost love had been before he had been murdered. This man, like Flint, was another man in which Caroline knew she could fall in love.

He was smart too, navigating himself into the same position that Caroline had yesterday although for more materialistic ends. They finished their negotiations and then began working through supplies. Despite Flint not knowing that The Urca was guarded by a Man of War he seemed to at least know that there would be heavy fortifications. A second ship. A country leaving those sort of stores unprotected? It was unthinkable. Which was more than Caroline could say for some. As Flint began listing off things he would need for his ship to Miss Guthrie, ne Eleanor, Caroline leaned over to look at Silver, “I’m not the only one bored now,” she asked him, “Am I?”

“I don’t know,” Silver said, “I must admit I was fearing rather heavily for my life for a second back there.”

“That makes one of you,” Caroline replied.

A cough altered them to the fact that Flint was staring at the both of them, “We’re leaving.”

Caroline shared a look with Silver, and in his gaze found his own frustrations at the situation. Here - between them - Caroline realized she could also find a friend and an ally. Oh she didn’t trust Silver as far as she could throw him - which currently was not far - but she hardly trusted Jack Sparrow either and they had found some sort of common ground years ago. Also she didn’t want to bed Jack Sparrow. But Silver - that was a completely different affair. So maybe it wasn’t the same.

Business finished, Caroline determined that the best course of action would be to return to the home. There was very little she could do here, now that things had been finished and she didn’t care much to stick around for boring conversations if they didn’t involve her. However before she could walk off Flint looked at her, “I changed my mind,” great, “I may need you later on. Don’t go anywhere.”

Caroline took in a deep breath and then released in a way that she hoped didn’t sound too much like a giant sigh.

\---

Later on turned out to be a few hours later with her, Eleanor, Flint, Gates, Vane, and a new man of which Gates introduced her to as one Jack Rackham. She smiled warmly upon being introduced, shook hands and then leaned against the wall as they got down to business. The bartering of a potential partnership between Vane and Flint to take The Urca. A bartering that did not last long before Gates had to drag Flint outside in order to calm him down from some small slight Vane had committed that Caroline did not understand.

As he left she glanced over at the man in question who was staring at her with - not contempt but at least a minor amount of judgement. He twisted a coin between his fingers in one hand and smoked tobacco with the other, “So you joined up with him,” he grunted.

The him in question was very obviously Captain Flint, “I have a feeling that I’ve somehow disappointed you.”

“I’m just curious as to your intent here.”

By the way he avoided the question, Caroline knew she had been spot on. Disappointed it was then, “I’m getting a vibe,” Jack stared between them, “That the two of you know each other.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Caroline answered.

At the table Eleanor coughed, and accidentally spit a little bit of her drink back into her glass. Well, that hadn’t been the reaction that Caroline had been expecting. She didn’t have time to consider exactly what Eleanor’s shock at hearing that they had potentially - in this case clearly - slept together because Flint was back for another short stint before Gates had to pull him out of the conversations a second time. This time silence followed and Caroline could not help the small bit of choked back laughter that she released as Gates began to yell at Flint outside. When she looked up from covering her amusement Eleanor was still looking at her. Sensing the tension Jack stood up, “I'm gonna take a piss.”

Caroline stood with him, “And I think I’m going to leave,” she looked back at Vane, “I think he wanted me here so that if there were questions about the validity of the ship I could confirm that it is very real and that I had seen it.”

“The gold?” Eleanor asked.

“The ship,” Caroline clarified, “If Flint asks where I went please let him know that I’ve turned in for the night,” she glanced outside, “Despite the fact that it’s day.”

She rapped her knuckles on top of the table and then turned to leave. Really there was too much historical tension between Eleanor and Vane, and she really did not care to stick around for any of it. It was stifling. She had better things to do. Even if she wasn’t sure what those better things were.

\---

The rest of the day and the next few days passed quickly. Caroline made herself familiar with Nassau, learned the name of more of the crew, and did her best to make herself helpful whenever possible. Which meant a great deal of things, but was why she was a little put upon when Flint announced his plans to beach the ship to clean the hull and told her with a very straight face that on the off chance things were to go wrong, Caroline was not to help. Because if the ship collapsed on her, they would lose the little intel they had on The Urca’s designation, and that was not something he was willing to risk. Instead of getting into a fight, Caroline had beamed at him as politely as possible and given in.

The morning they were to go to the beach Caroline awoke to shouting. Loud shouting. It was the first time she had heard Flint and Miranda arguing. About a book no less. A book that belonged to a man named Thomas, A man that Miranda must have loved based on the pain in her voice. But - she was not the only one who sounded pained. Flint was furious at her for giving it to read to the still alive body they had dragged in a few days prior. And well - his anguish sounded very much like the sort of bitterness Caroline heard in her mother’s voice every time she talked about the death of Caroline’s father. Before Katharine had saved him.

There were other things too, in their argument, but it was the sound of Flint’s voice that remained. It sounded like lost love.

Later that morning as they walked down to the beach where they had put up the ship Flint turned to her in the silence that had stretched between them and said, “You overhead again, did you not?”

“Would you like me to say that I didn’t?”

Last time it hadn’t been this raw. And the information she had learned hadn’t been as soul shattering. What she was really asking with her question - was - do you want me to pretend that I never heard anything? Do you want me to put the memory so far away that I forget it, and we never speak of it again? What she did not say, and what Flint did not know, was that she was also saying - I do not judge you for loving him. For how could she, when her mother loved Aunt Elizabeth so dearly, “I would rather you keep it to yourself. If you do not mind.”

It wasn’t a - forget everything you heard. Instead it felt more like - this is a secret between us now. That was something that Caroline could live with.

\---

The day was half through and Caroline lounged on a makeshift bed she had created for herself on the sand. In front of her Silver was returning from talking to Flint about something Caroline cared not to get involved with. He returned with a frown on his face, having not accomplished whatever he had been trying to accomplish. She pushed herself up by the elbows so she could look at him in her half lying position, “Trying to cozy up to the Captain?”

“Well it seemed to work for you,” he returned as a volley.

“The Captain and I are not friends,” Caroline said, “A great disappointment of mine, to be sure.”

“You may not be friends but I believe he trusts you as much as he trusts anyone.”

If their conversation was anything to go by this morning maybe what Silver said was true. She had no major quarrel with Flint and did not see a time where she would. At least nothing that would break them in ways that were not fixable. Although Caroline was fond of the old adage in which one never counted their chickens before they hatched, and she knew down the line someday she might become furious with him. Still today was not that day, and as long as Flint held the spark of war in his eyes, Caroline would follow him still. The fate of piracy above all else, “You’ll get him,” she tried to offer Silver some cheer.

“Why is it that you do not seem to hate me like the rest of the men?”

“Well,” Caroline started, “Our situations between us are rather similar. Where we both seek the same ends, and hold information the Captain needs,” she sat up the rest of the way dusting sand off her hands, “You also have given me no reason to dislike you, even though you seem to be a bit of an untrustworthy shit,” at her comment Silver cracked a wide smile, “which is something I can work with.”

“Well said Miss Caroline.”

Silver mock bowed and Caroline glanced behind him, “I don’t know what Flint told you but if you don’t turn your pig it’s going to burn quite soon.”

He turned and let out an exclamation that made Caroline laugh. For most of the afternoon then the two of them continued to rib each other until Silver told a joke so inappropriate that Caroline could not help but break into almost delirious laughter.

But her laughter was short lived. A gust of wind danced through the tent area and the anchor tattoo - which up until that point had remained rather docile and done nothing to bother her - began to burn. She pressed her palm to it, but it did nothing to repress the pain. It was as if part of her was screaming to get out, fighting against the ink that worked like chains on her body. She glanced towards Flint’s ship and then at the trees. She had a second to register what her body was fighting through the bonds to tell her, “The ship,” she whispered at Silver.

As the rope ties came loose Silver left his position and Caroline turned to scream into the blanket under her, the sand muffling her cries of pain as the boat snapped clean of the trees, and began to tip sideways attempting to crush anyone who remained under its belly.

\---

There had only been one death. One man pressed under the hull of the ship but Caroline had mourned. She hadn’t known the man but that hardly mattered. Before the tattoo she had gotten used to feeling pirates - men of the sea - die, just a little out of reach. And accepted their sacrifices to her altar. But when solitary men died close and she had no quarrel she liked to pay homage to them. To close her eyes and watch them in the sea of the dead. To say goodbye to those who loved her. Died for her, although they did not know her name.

The Kings who had branded her had denied Caroline that today. Had denied her that right as their goddess. The thought sat marked and entwined around her skin as she watched one of The Crown’s ships sail off with the guns they were supposed to trade for in the fight to reclaim The Urca. It continued to tighten as she followed Flint through the streets of Nassau, both of them simmering in different rages, “I’m just as angry as you are,” she told him.

“Good.”

It was just one word but it held such promise, and Caroline surrendered herself to it. To the storm that was slowly brewing between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Caroline's relationship with Silver so much. Both of them very smart, but also very stupid at the same time. It's the perfect combination. Overall I think Caroline is more willing to go with the flow between them, but they both know exactly what they want and are not afraid to get it. 
> 
> Caroline has also already mostly puzzled out Flint's relationship with Thomas, thanks to having good ears and also thanks to her own experience of having a mother who loves another women. 
> 
> Finally the scene of awkwardness between Eleanor/Vane/Caroline was very fun to write. I don't think Caroline regrets sleeping with Vane but she's starting to feel the blow back in small ways.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	5. Part 1.5: The Two Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline makes two important decisions. She just has to hope they are the right ones to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels like a lot lmao. But this was still the best time for all this a lot to happen.

Caroline had said, with as much venom in her voice as she could muster, “I am a good fighter although I know I don’t look it. You can use me to take that ship.”

She was of course talking about the one who had promised to trade them guns for their attack on The Urca. It had been early morning, and Flint had just told her that he had plans for her to stay at the port, in order that she didn’t get blown up by a cannonball. Caroline had snapped and he had snapped back, “You will stay here. My word is law and you will abide by it.”

They were standing almost toe to toe now, breathing heavily, eyes dark, and Caroline was suddenly overcome by a wave of lust that she had no place to put anywhere. A wave of lust she rode all the way into town, and all the way into the afternoon far after Flint had left the port and left her stranded. High and dry, as the men might say. She was currently sitting in Eleanor’s office just across from Silver, who Flint had cuffed to the sofa upon his departure and considering her options. She couldn’t go back to Vane, considering the tension it had created between her and Eleanor. Not when they needed Eleanor to help them with whatever this was. Caroline wasn’t in the mood to piss her off. Also Caroline was pretty sure she liked Eleanor. Despite everything.

To make things even messier Eleanor had enough on her hands, with the town in open rebellion, thanks to her father’s actions a few hours prior. Caroline could hear Eleanor talking in a raised voice to the captains of the port just outside her office, trying to broker peace, “If I uncuff you,” Caroline said to Silver - apropos of nothing, “Will you run?”

Silver glanced up at her, “That seems awfully kind of you, to uncuff a man that your captain does not trust.”

“To be honest I’m pissed off enough at Flint to do it,” she shrugged.

“That’s not all you’ve been today,” he commented, gesturing with his eyes at her everything.

Had she been projecting it that transparently? Maybe. It wasn’t like her posture, sitting legs spread out, foot rapidly tapping, as she leaned back in the chair screamed out her desire to get laid. Or no, perhaps it did. The fact that Silver could read her body language so well was terrifying. It also did nothing to abate her lust, “You really are a shit,” she grinned.

“That may be,” he held up his hands in the cuffs, “But I can think of better ways to improve one's mood. I’d rather not deal with you in this state. If I’m honest.”

His words were the words of an asshole. However he was right. Caroline only considered it for a moment longer. It wasn’t like Silver was going to run off. He needed Flint too badly, and Caroline could be a competent watchdog when the mood struck. And if she did her job well enough and wore him out - well - she wouldn’t even need to be that. Caroline stood up and snatched the keys off Eleanor’s table and had him already unlocked and massaging his wrists when Eleanor came in. She stopped for a moment to take in the scene, “You unlocked him.”

“I will be a very good caretaker,” Caroline promised.

“Flint's anger will be on you if anything happens to him.”

Outside Caroline could hear the sound of the crowd ratcheting up in volume. And now Eleanor was here. She had been so very close. She nudged Silver as Eleanor turned and he looked down at her, as if asking what exactly Caroline wanted him to say. In return she shrugged, he was the one who was good at twisting words and getting people to do what he wanted, not Caroline. Well, not all the time, and hardly not as good as him, “At the risk of overstepping my bounds, I think you should agree to Captain Hornigold's terms. Lift the ban.”

Eleanor poured herself something to drink, “What do you care about... They're beating her.”

Caroline had no idea who this she was. Max perhaps? And if so - Caroline worried what she had gotten herself into that someone would think beating her was their only recourse. Max was - not Caroline’s friend - but Caroline liked her. Respected her. Was now a little angry at whoever was hurting her, “She chose it,” Silver told Eleanor.

That had not sounded like the right thing to say but as the conversation weaved on, Caroline had the feeling that it had been exactly the right thing to say. To convince Eleanor of the path she needed to take. To get the captains under control. But Silver’s final words worked to re-stroke the fire that was burning inside Caroline and had been burning inside Caroline all day, “Losing your life's work...that doesn't go away.”

Because dammit, that was exactly why Flint shouldn’t have fucking gone without her. Fucker. Fiery red haired, nice looking, fucker, “Thank you,” Eleanor meant it.

With a swish she walked from the room and Caroline turned towards Silver, “You give a beautiful speech.”

“Well, I am very good with words.”

“I hope you are better with more than just words.”

Caroline tugged him past the iron gates of the storage room and smirked as he settled on the small bed there, “Just before we begin,” he asked, “And to clear up any such issues, you are sure about this right?”

Caroline answered him by straddling his waist and pressing her mouth against his. Was this wise - sleeping with someone she had confessed to having emotions for? No. Was it good to be doing it because Flint had gotten her so worked up this morning that she hadn’t been able to think straight? The answer to that question was also decidedly no. But she was a goddess, and she desired worship above all else. She breathed into Silver’s mouth and said between kisses, “Yes.”

She felt his hands dip under her shirt, fingers brushing against her skin, to rest on the hollow of her back as they continued to kiss. His fingers were warm, and made her skin heat up as they lay upon her. Their softness hid power, and Silver turned Caroline until she was laying on the small bed. Reaching up with a hand that no longer pressed against her back, he pulled the curtain that hung above them across, separating them from the rest of the world.

It passed by as a fleeting thought that they should take their time, that this deserved to be at least savoured but Caroline had been too keyed up since the start of the day so she sat up that she could gaze up at Silver, and quickly worked at the fastening of her pants. Her fingers deftly untied the string, and then worked with an urgency to undo the string of his own, “There’s no need to rush,” Silver told her.

“I don’t know if you noticed,” the tie of his pants came undone, and she began to stroke what she found there, “that I am in no need to take it slow -”

He sat heavy in her hand as she continued to stroke him, feeling him harden under her touch. With sure hands she directed him to where she wanted him, where she had been wet the whole afternoon, “Oh I certainly noticed,” he did not let her finish.

“I’ve been keyed up all afternoon.”

Then he was inside her and Caroline let out a sigh into his mouth as they continued to kiss, and he started to rock up into her, “Fuck.”

“That’s the plan,” she moaned.

This really had been the best impulsive decision she had made all day.

\---

The curtain to their small get away was pulled back and Caroline blinked up at the person who had interrupted their post cordial crash. Eleanor stared down at them, and Caroline could read her aggressive judgment of Caroline’s choices, in the way her hands sat on her hips and her eyes were rolled back just ever so. Contempt of the highest order, “You truly do get around don’t you.”

Apparently, despite claiming to be mostly over him, Eleanor still smarted from the fact that Caroline had slept with Vane one time. A thing she did not plan to repeat for a various number of reasons, the least of which was that she had discovered she did not crave to do it again. But Eleanor would probably see that as a slight against Vane, so Caroline did not say that and instead said rather cheerily, “What do you need?”

“It’s not you we need,” at her words Silver sat up, chest bare to the world, “It’s him,” Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark of night a little better Caroline could just make out a woman in the shadow of the office, “Get dressed.”

\---

It turned out that today was not terrible despite Flint having left her. Not only had she gotten fantastically laid, but it turned out there was a fight to be had. And not just any fight. A fight to rescue Max. Of who Caroline still owed for the dress and for the kindness Max had shown her upon Caroline’s arrival at Nassau.

A fight that she was in now thanks to the recently met and named Anne Bonny. Well, Anne and her friend Jack. Who seemed more than willing to go along with anything Anne wanted. Which at this current juncture seemed to be to kill anyone who had laid an unkind hand on Max.

Caroline grinned as she remained hidden behind the rocks that made up the wrecks of the island. The place where ships who dared to sail too close to the shoreline at night would crash against. That now acted as shaded cover for this plot. Her grin widened. Yes, Caroline was having a much better day than she had foreseen.

Voices began to whisper through the cracks of the rocks until Caroline felt that they were right next to her. There was a grunt. Steel against steel and one man rounded the corner to come face to face with Caroline. He didn’t even have a moment to draw his gun before she ran him through with her sword, gutting him and dropping him on the sand. She stepped out from behind the rocks and watched as Jack killed one of the men with a pistol shot, giving the other time to draw his sword and get in close. Or as close as he dared until Caroline stopped the stroke of his blade with the stroke of her own.

He swung wide at her head, and she ducked under the blade. She felt the change in the wind and instinct moved her as he twisted the blade of his sword and brought it down again, in an attempt to slice her shoulder to the ground. He missed and his stumble allowed Caroline the time she needed to right herself. and block his next sword stroke. In retaliation, she used the strength of her arm to push him far enough away that she was able to pinpoint the weakness in his side and run him through with her own, twisting her sword in his stomach to drive the point home and pulling it free. He collapsed and Caroline turned to see Jack staring at her, “Remind me not to piss you off.”

“You don’t seem like the sort of person who could or would manage to do so.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a thank you or a slight against my ability to be threatening to you.”

“You can take it however you want,” Caroline stared out at the bodies around them, “I should leave before anyone marks that I was here but you. It wouldn’t do my captain a lot of good if it was discovered I had a hand in it.”

“Yes well,” Jack looked around, “I dare say you’re right.”

Caroline cleaned her sword on the shirt of one of the men she had killed and then stuck it back in it’s scabbard. With a nod to Jack she began to make her way back into town with a grin, not a bad night at all.

\---

Flint returned the next day on the wings of a partial victory carrying at least a good number of guns for his ship. By the time he returned Caroline’s blood had stopped festering, so she was able to greet him with a warm smile and a congratulations. Thankfully, she had been able to corner Silver as Flint’s sails had been seen on the horizon. Allowing them a brief window to talk about what had transpired between them. Caroline for her own part had found her fears about Silver compounded, in that it had stirred up some sort of emotion in her. The “L” word sat on the tip of her tongue but she rejected it for the time being. Getting invested in Silver now - the idea of it seemed like madness. She had Flint’s plan to worry about, and her own feelings for her captain. To juggle affection for two men seemed like a bad idea. Even if secretly she knew that it was far too late.

However, Caroline left all of her messy feelings out of the conversation, and instead focused on the part about investment. The focus on The Urca was paramount. Especially since - and Caroline told Silver this - all things being completely transparent between them - she wasn’t the sort of woman who would just settle down with anyone. At word the ‘settle down’ Silver’s eyes had gotten fearful at the idea of any sort of commitment, and at present that pleased Caroline just fine.

Her pieces said to both Silver and Flint, Caroline trekked back to the home he had with Miranda and settled in for a small nap, having exhausted herself fully the day and night before. A nap that she was rudely awakened from by the sound of Flint passing by her bedroom door. He looked into the room across from hers and was about to turn and glance at her groggy form when Miranda spoke, and his angry footfalls carried him back into the kitchen. In her bed Caroline’s heart began to pound because she realized that for the third consecutive time, she was about to hear a conversation that no one intended her to hear.

Flint was angry. Angier than he had been the last time the two of them had been shouting at each other. About the book. Miranda had done something - sent something - a letter. Caroline wasn’t sure what the letter had accused Flint of, but whatever had been in it, had gotten out to the crew. And he was furious, “Have you no memory of how we got here? What they took from us?”

It was the way he said us that confirmed everything that Caroline had suspected. She had seen the portrait in the kitchen when it had been uncovered. Of Thomas and Miranda. Caroline wasn’t blind. She couldn’t be. ‘Your father and I love each other, as do Elizabeth and Will’ her mother had said to her once, when Caroline was old enough to understand. ‘But I love Elizabeth too, and I no longer want to hide that from you.’ Caroline had asked then in a voice not completely fearful, ‘Does that mean you love father less?’ and Katharine had smiled in the way her mother smiled - to light up a room - and answered, ‘Of course not. I just love them differently. And it has changed nothing. The three of us are still us’.

Us. The word shattered everything in Caroline. Like a puzzle box that Flint didn’t know he had opened in front of her. How could he? Miranda wanted acceptance from England. From The Crown. Acceptance that Caroline knew would never come. Had learned a long time ago not to ask for. They all had to learn eventually. In stops and starts and ends, “They took everything from us,” Flint continued to erode the silence, “And then they called me a monster,” the tattoo on Caroline’s hip burned, “The moment I sign that pardon, the moment I ask for one, I proclaim to the world that they were right. This ends when I grant them my forgiveness… not the other way around.”

They shared a few more words and then Flint left the house. For an hour Caroline sat in bed letting herself soak in his words. Turning them around in her head like they were the key that could unlock everything and set her free once more, like becoming the sea had set her free so many years ago. Who was she to lie to herself. The roaring crash of the ocean had already spoken. Caroline was in love.

With a sigh she let her body sink into the bed, let it comfort her, sturdy her heart. Then she stood, and followed Flint into the port.

\---

It was dark when she arrived in Nassau proper. Candle light flickered in windows. Caroline stepped into the tavern and scanned the tables until she found him. He was tucked into the back of the room, a drink in front of him that he wasn’t drinking. He looked - forlorn. Not all put together. Dejected, as if he had just been forced to turn something impossible down. This encounter was going to be - something. But Caroline refused to bend. No, she wanted to leap. Damn the consequences. She squared her shoulders and walked over to his table, pulled back a chair to sit down with him. It was only when she was fully seated that he looked up at her, “We set sail tomorrow,” he told her gruffly, “There’s no need to agonize, I’ll get you your ship.”

“I’m not here about tomorrow,” Caroline told him.

“What are you here for then?” His eyes were bitter, “Do you enjoy seeing me in such a state?”

“Of course not,” that seemed to surprise him, his eyes widening just a fraction, such expressive eyes he had, “I’m here about us.”

There were so many layered meanings in the sentence that Caroline had spoken, but he knew. He knew the moment she said the word just as Caroline had known the moment he had spoken back at the house. Us. Such a small but deadly word to say, “Why is it,” Flint pulled the rum over to himself and took a sip, “That you seem to always overhear my most intimate and private conversations?”

Instead Caroline said, “Why should they have our fucking forgiveness? Why should they have any of it when all they do is take and mark - claim that which doesn’t belong to them? Plant tilted flags in uneven sand.”

They were sitting at the table but in Caroline’s mind they stood on a sandbank made of dark sand in The Sea of the Dead. Surrounded by so many souls that The Kings of The Civilized World had taken and not given back. Flint’s eyes bore into hers and they reflected all those souls - all those dead, “This is a conversation not for those fit to hear it,” he stood, “follow me.”

He led her upstairs across the bridge outside, and over to the brothel. Navigated over to one of the private rooms, and Caroline felt the crunch of the sand under her boot. He opened the door and ushered her inside. They stood there across from each other, the same storm that had brewed between them the day before alive again, as if the clouds had never receded, “Why did you bring me here?” she asked, heart pounding loudly in her chest.

He stepped closer towards Caroline, “How much did you hear?”

She stepped backwards as he stepped forward, and her legs hit the side of the bed, “Enough.”

He towered over her. Face inches from her own, “Tell me to stop.”

“No.”

She wasn’t sure who reached out first. But suddenly her fingers were tangled in his hair.

Kissing Vane had been nice. Kissing Silver had been a revelation. But kissing Flint tasted like coming home. As she let him lower her to the bed and lost herself in him, she promised him between the kisses and touches, and the moment they became joined, that she would give him his war. When he was ready, and the tattoo on her side was banished of all power she would give him the free world he so craved, and she would remind The Kings just who ruled the sea. Who she had chosen over their laws and their iron grip.

Flint’s fingers curled around her leg, almost bruising, as he tugged her leg up to wrap around his back. Pants and shirts had long been discarded, and Caroline could feel Flint’s erection hard against her, the two of them slick against each other. His tongue having already made her wet enough to take him. He pressed against her softly as if asking for permission that she had already granted him, “Can I -”

“Yes. Please.”

He fucked into at the same time as he kissed her, swallowing her moans. Above them, Caroline’s fingers curled on the bed sheet as she chased her pleasure, as they chased it together. Felt it crescendo in a wave, and crash over her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consent is sexy. 
> 
> I went through a lot of internal debate about if having her sleep with both of them in the same chapter was the right decision but I still think it is. Both for the pacing of the story later on, and because I actually love both as contrasts to each other. Sleeping with Silver was spontaneous, it can be this lighter thing, because at this point Silver was a lighter character. However her decision to sleep with Flint was far more planned and has to be, because as far as impact towards Flint's character, it means more currently. Yet both end up meaning a great deal to her. Which you'll see later.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	6. Part 1.6: The Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline confronts her choices in bed partners, and then confronts the ship that first held her captive.

The next morning Caroline woke before the sun had cracked over the horizon. Flint lay snoring softly by her side and she found herself happier than she wanted to admit that he had stayed. She had no illusions about the night they had just shared. But it had helped make things clearer in her mind. About where she stood with herself, and the awareness of it was not as terrifying as she had once feared. She loved James Flint - and wasn’t that only briefly strange - to be in love with someone named James. But Caroline had realized sometime between the first and the second time - when she had been given a moment to compare this to what she had shared with Silver - she loved Silver too.

It was in a different way than she loved Flint of course, far less complicated, far less tied up in a mission or a shared goal. But it was okay to love two people, Caroline thought. And - her mind supplied her with a number of glances the two men had shared between each other when they thought no one was looking - it helped that they at least found each other some semblance of attractive. That was fertile ground for - something.

This she would not share with either of them. Not yet. But she would tease them about it in a sort of underhanded way later. When she had the time. Work them up to the idea of it, and then depending on the reaction, push for it in earnest.

She stretched and then nudged Flint awake. He groaned and stared up at her, “Fuck,” he blinked into the darkness, “What time is it?”

“Time to get the ship ready for sail,” she could hardly believe that they were set to leave today, “And time to talk about what happened between us if you so wish.”

“Not particularly, unless you do.”

That hadn’t been the answer she had been expecting. She had thought he would shut communication down completely. Well, in for a penny in for a pound as it was. Flint seemed to value the price of a good story, and Caroline did not want to start this off on the wrong foot. She hoped she was making the right choice when she said, “My mother is in a relationship with two people, it’s not something I share often but for you I’ll make the exception,” she could feel the bed sheet under her tense along with Flint’s body, but she would not bring up Thomas, not when she did have to, “I didn’t understand why until last night.”

Flint thankfully made the correct leap in logic, “Who else did you sleep with?”

At least he didn’t seem to be having as massive of a panic attack, although he still looked about half ready to yell at her. Which he probably would, “Silver.”

“You slept with fucking John Silver?”

His voice pitched high at the end of his comment. That wasn’t him yelling. Instead that was him sounding as if he couldn’t believe what she had said. As if Caroline was suddenly a stranger to him, “And I enjoyed it,” she didn’t have to explain herself to him, “Just like I enjoyed this. I don’t plan to stop doing either and I won’t let it get in the way of my duties on the ship.”

That he seemed to believe, “Men on ships do idiotic things around women that they find pleasing,” his voice was still rough from sleep, “If this interferes with the crew in any way -”

“I’ll just have to do my damnedest to make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic then,” she grinned at him, “Do you really think he finds me pleasing?”

“We’re not having this discussion,” he stood up giving Caroline a brilliant view of his ass as he wandered around the room putting on his clothing, “Instead tell me - how well can you rig a ship?”

Flashes came to Caroline then, of standing on The Adventure as the men helped walk her through which knots to tie and where, Teach just a little out of view making sure that they taught her correctly the first time. Because if they didn’t, and she didn’t tie something tight enough, the potential for the sail to catch a gust of wind it did not intend and to send them staggeringly off course was high, “Well enough.”

She flipped the rest of the sheet off her and collected her things off the floor, dressing quickly to make up for the time she had lost. Then the two of them walked down stairs together and Caroline did her best to ignore the stares of the brothel workers who clearly knew what had happened last night, and were stuck between some state of amazement and disbelief. Well, Caroline was glad she could be good entertainment to them. She doubted they were getting it from most of the men.

\---

It began to storm shortly after they left Nassau. It was a powerful storm but manageable, like the one she had dealt with on Teach’s ship. It raged while Caroline moved about the deck, making sure that the ropes that made up the rig were sound so that the sails would hold in the wind. It felt good to be back at sea. Even with the connection almost completely severed - although not as completely as she had first assumed - the rain felt good on her face. A balm. Like the soothing salves she had made back at her riverside home. Before the Brethren Court had freed her. The wind felt good too, and the harsh rocking of the boat as the sea crashed into it. It was a feeling that she had missed so wholly and utterly that when there was a call to go below deck Caroline had not headed it, even though she knew she should. Her body was still a fallible thing but that had never stopped her from taking risks.

Instead she let the ropes on the ship guide her to the bow where she gripped hard and let the rain come down on her in torrents. It was one of the best feelings in the world. No other could match it. She let herself get lost in the utopia of it and that was how Silver found her, drenched in the sea, “You’re completely insane, did you know that? This sort of storm will drag you out to sea and I find you standing here spitting in it’s very face.”

“Am I insane or are you insane for coming out to find me?”

They were yelling to each other, but the wind swallowed their words whole. No one could hear them but each other. A private conversation, courtesy of the weather, “Come back down into the hull, the men are playing Whist and you’ll be able to dry off. Or make some attempt at it.”

Caroline didn’t want to leave, but she could see the worry in Silver eyes and remembered what Flint had said about him at least finding her pleasant. Maybe even liking her, “Before we go though, and while we are out here and any sort of overreaction could cause you to plummet to your death there is something you should know.”

“Your words do not inspire a great deal of promise in me.”

“I slept with Flint last night, and I enjoyed it enormously. I don’t intend to stop if he isn’t bothered by it.”

Silver’s hand slipped on the rope for just a second, but then he caught himself, “So then our dalliance is over?”

“Not if you don’t want it to be,” Caroline used the rope to come closer to him, “Life is all about choices Silver. And my choice is that I want you both. It’s rather selfish I admit, but I think you of all people can understand that.”

“Are you calling me selfish? That seems hardly fair or kind.”

“You’ve called yourself it before, and I do not say it as unkindness. I happen to like it about you. If you can believe it or not.”

“You’re the first person who would say that, I thought you should know,” Silver informed her.

“Good, that makes one of me then.”

She gave him a clasp on the shoulder with her free hand, and then slid around him catching herself on the rail. She followed that down into the galley where she proceeded to win at least three games of Whist before going on the most intense losing streak she had ever gone on in her life.

\---

As someone who was supposed to be the living and also metaphysical embodiment of the ocean, Caroline felt as if she should have seen the problems that now faced Flint coming. But she hadn’t dreamt of dark water or heard the chatter of the fish as the shark approached. Those sort of prophecies were closed off to her. Instead she had ignored the early storm she had sent in warning, too caught up with feeling the sea under her feet again. That was the problem with this tattoo, and Caroline hated it even more now as Silver came out of the Captain’s Cabin to whisper to her that Gates was dead.

Shit.

Before he told her, Caroline had been down in the hold helping one of the crew sort things when she had heard the cry that they had spotted a ship. Feeling beholden to help him finish it, they had made quick work of it. Caroline then had arrived on deck, to squint into the horizon before giving up on seeing the ship with her naked eye. Time pressing down on her, it had taken just a little too long to convince one of the men that they should hand her their spyglass so she could have a look. The glance through it had confirmed her suspicions that it was in fact The Man of War she had been held captive on. However the men were already in a frenzy that it might be a powerful warship they had to gun down, and Caroline wasn’t sure if they would believe her if she confirmed their thoughts. Their fear made them dare to hope that this wasn’t The Hulk that guarded The Urca. Flint would believe - Caroline trusted him that much - but now Gates was dead and they had a completely new problem on their hands.

Whispers of a potential mutiny and the end of the chase. Some would rather flee than fight. No matter the prize, just as Caroline had long thought. These two events occurring concurrently only compounded how bad things would get if this went sideways in a way that Caroline could not control. So she would try to do what she had to do to control them. Which had never been her specialty.

See - it was only now that Caroline realized what sort of situation she had placed herself in. If The Man of War caught her, and caged her, it wouldn’t matter what happened today. The crew here would lose. This was a fight for their very survival. She caught Flint as he came out of his cabin, “Is that ship,” he said with all seriousness, “The Urca.”

“No. But The Urca does not travel alone, she is the one that watches the gold.”

“The Urca,” he said again just to clarify his position, “Is protected by a Man of War. That’s my fucking warship.”

“Yes,” she confirmed again, “That is your Hulk. You know if the men knew they would have never gone after it.”

“Some would have,” he told her, “But we would have been running on a skeleton crew.”

“It’s not me you need to convince now,” she looked out over the deck, “It’s them.”

He nodded with a grunt and Caroline watched him go. That had gone - better than she had expected.

Far better.

\---

Things had gone - well enough for a time. The men had been convinced, and ready to do battle even though it would have been hard, and they had been completely set in the correct position to fire. It could have worked, Caroline told herself. She had seen her family pull off insane things despite the odds. Now mind a lot of their ships were mystical and connected to the magic of the sea in some way, but you could still sink The English Rose. It was still possible to topple The Empress. These were inalienable truths. But the bonds that had been built between the three captains that made up the vanguard of which her mother was a part of, was not the same on this ship although Caroline had hoped that they were.

Instead - just as they had been ready to fire on The Man of War - Dufresne, the coward that he was and had maybe always had been, turned on Flint. In that moment Caroline knew they would lose position, The Man of War would slip away from them, and the book she needed would be lost to sea. That could not happen. The truth was, which Caroline knew, as she had said before, the gold meant nothing. Not to the war, and not to any chance they had in winning it. Gold could buy them ships, and guns, but without the sea on their side the war was the pirates to lose. She could not lose that ship, even if it meant great sacrifice. And where the hell was Silver?

Despite the gun pointed at him, and the accusations of cruelty, Flint strode forward to grab the fuse for the guns on the ship and had almost lit the thing when a shot rang out. It clipped him through the shoulder and Caroline tried to press through the men who surrounded her to get to him. She had almost made it too when a cannon shot rang out from the gun deck and she turned to find Silver standing in front of one of the cannons, a shit eating grin upon his face, “Sorry. Had to be done.”

It had been an act of desperation, but Caroline could have kissed him in that moment. She wouldn’t of course, but she wanted to, “There's no running now,” Flint told the crew. And there certainly wasn’t. From his place on the ground where the bullet had left him Flint continued, “Fire, Mr. Dufresne. Everything you've got. Don't waste this moment. All cannons, open fire!”

As the cannons began to fire Caroline ran to the rail of the ship to watch them impact onto the hull of The Man of War. She watched, and realized that her fears before had been correct. The moment Dufresne had turned they had lost a precious window. They would not do enough damage before the ship turned about. The tattoo on her hip began to burn again and she shook it off. There had to be something she could do. Not to win them this fight no, but to win them the battle in the long run. She pressed on her tattoo again as a stab of pain lanced up her side all the way up to her shoulder blades. She ran up the stairs onto the upper deck and braced herself against the rail of the ship. Watched as The Man of War turned. Felt every moment of it between the cries of the crew and the realization that such a powerful ship was turning her full force to bear on you.

The ship fired. A cannon flew past Caroline’s face, barely missing her as Flint’s ship felt the full brunt of the attack on it. In it’s passing she felt a flutter of - something - where her tattoo was as it responded to the wind. There was still some fight left in her then. Caroline closed her eyes, and shut herself off to the screaming. The rail under her splintered and she felt herself tip backwards into the water, but still she kept her eyes closed. She hit the water, felt it part around her.

There. She could feel it. Just a little out of reach. Just a little beyond the murk of the ink in the tattoo. The winds of a storm. In the water she opened her mouth to scream in pain as she tugged on the winds, pulled them closer and closer until they were only a hair's width away from the ships. She wasn’t drowning, but she knew her body was losing consciousness, and still she fought against the tattoo, against the stabbing - scraping inside of her that told her no, she could not do this, and no, that power was not hers to command again.

But in this moment, in this very fight it was. It was, it was. She was Calypso, goddess of the sea and she would have her winds. She would dash The Urca, just out of reach, upon the rocks near the shore and force The Man of War to drop anchor. To stay with its gold. Just for a moment, just for a little bit, just long enough that Caroline would find her again. Climb into her chest and read upon the pages hidden in her wooden hull. As her body lost the last of its functions, she felt the imaginary stirrings of it - a gust of wind through her hair - and she saw it - herself standing on the beach of an island gazing out over The Urca as it’s hull battered itself against the ocean floor. Over, and over again.

Her body washed onto the sand, hardly moving, her fingers still curled around the tattoo. But she was smiling.

END PART ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caroline has started the wheels spinning on Silver and Flint. Going to take a bit to get there though so stay with it. Re the end: there's a little bit of fun revisionist history going on here. In the show the storm is mostly luck on Flint's part. Here it's Caroline's doing and god I loved writing the bit where she conjured it. She still has teeth. 
> 
> There's also a bit of a running joke between my stories where Caroline is aggressively average at Whist, which tickles me. Finally I adore the bits where Caroline realizes that the storm was a warning that she sent herself that she didn't heed. The way Flint's crew works is not the way her family works, and she learned this the hard way. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	7. Part 2.1: The Half-Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline takes a step towards freeing herself, and tests the boundaries between Silver and Flint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has Caroline get up to some pirate of the caribbeanesque shenanigans, which will happen from time to time since it still is a crossover trying to live in both worlds.

For a little while Caroline floated. Sunk deep into herself and walked through the trenches of the sea where only the most fearless fish dared to go. Felt the current as it tugged forward and ever onward. The sand by her feet made the already murky water murkier when her footsteps disturbed the kernels, until gravity pulled them back down. A trail so easily erased. A path forged and reforged. Caroline found an outcropping to sit on, the rocks digging into her legs. A fish with a round belly and a glowing lure swam past her. It did not stop, and continued to follow the road of the trench to where Caroline did not know. An aimless journey only spurred on by the nature of the fish. Time passed. A squid with skin the color of blood, lights running up its side swam by. It felt hungry. Caroline reached out the arms of the sea, and the squid came to her where it rested there on her lap, allowing her to stoke its body. The animal shuddered in her arms like a cat purring.

But like a cat it had teeth. One second her hand was on top of its body, and the next second it’s suction body wrapped around her midsection. Caroline didn’t have time to react as it’s beak like mouth curled around her left side and sunk in, tearing flesh and leaving a gaping bloody wound. Blue ink bleed into the sea, and Caroline awoke to Silver shaking her. Her lungs were full of water, and before she could stop it, she turned and expelled the salty ocean water from her body, “Jesus,” Silver scrambled away from where Caroline lay heaving on the beach.

She pressed her hand to the tattoo and it came away bloody despite missing the presence of any sort of cut. Any sort of entry wound, “It’s not Jesus, Silver,” Caroline told him, “Just a lot of water.”

She wiped her mouth with her bloody hand and Silver stared at it and then down at her side, “You know what I just noticed?”

“The tattoo?”

“Well I noticed that when we slept together, but now it’s bleeding and that feels mighty strange to me. An omen.”

“We were just in the fight of our lives. Bodies bleed.”

Silver looked at her strangely as if he didn’t quite believe what Caroline was telling him. He really was perceptive. Although Caroline doubted even he could fully perceive her, “I suppose they do.”

Time to change the topic then, “Where’s Flint?”

At her comment Silver sighed, “I supposed that might be the first thing you thought of.”

“You sound jealous and it’s not a good look on you,” Caroline finally stood wiping the sand and blood off her hands, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“He’s back near the boat,” Silver admitted, “You weren’t near the wreck so the crew sent me to find you.”

That made enough sense but Caroline wasn’t sure if the crew sending Silver off to find her had been the best idea. She was surprised actually that he hadn’t run. But then - where would he run? He began walking with her up the beach and Caroline saw The Walrus in the distance. It was tipped sideways in the water, the hull wrecked with spots from cannon fire. It wouldn’t be going anywhere for some time. Her doing. But it wouldn’t matter if, “Did we lose The Urca?”

What she was really asking was if they had lost the Man of War but to ask that would be to tip them off to her true intentions. The men didn’t care about the deadly warship. Not like they cared about the gold. There was a terrible pause while Caroline waited for him to answer. Waited to see if her last ditch hail mary had worked. And then Silver smiled and Caroline knew that the pain and the suffering she had put herself through hadn’t been for not. It felt like a victory, even if it was just a small one, “We didn’t lose The Urca. It beached just a little bit further ashore than us,” he nodded up at the hill, “Do you want to see it?”

“Oh yes.”

Caroline continued to walk with him up the hill where they reconnected with the crew. In the small cove below she could see men, like ants littering the beach. They were carrying boxes with something in them - the gold maybe? It mattered very little to Caroline. Instead her gaze turned to the ocean where The Hulk of a warship sat. It had not taken as much damage as Caroline had envisioned but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was there just as she had hoped.

Ripe for the taking.

\---

The thing Caroline loved about Flint, besides all his rage and the way his hair looked like fire in the sunlight when he stood on the deck of a ship, was that he always had a plan. And if he didn’t have one, he was good about creating one on the spot. Like a magician pulling ticks out of thin air. Caroline had given him the Man of War free of charge, and although he did not know this, she hoped that Flint would seize the opportunity she had presented him with. The gold was important but they had no boat to carry it in. If Caroline could make this connection, then surly Flint could. Without prompting.

He had cursed Dufresne out for being a coward and a piece of shit, which Caroline had enjoyed more than she should have. Over the past few hours Caroline had come to despise their quartermaster rather intensely. See the thing Caroline had slowly come upon in her inner musings, was that Dufresne for all his talk, was not a pirate. Oh he wore the clothes and lived the life, but he was aching to follow some sort of line, some sort of unnecessary order. Men who gave themselves completely over to order were not pirates. However, despite the verbal thrashing Flint had given him he still cried, “Wait!” When Dufresne had turned to leave.

Which meant he had thought of a plan. A plan he was now telling them in great detail, “The Urca's gold is secure. A full complement of soldiers, reinforced batteries...18-pounders, all of them...and men who know how to use them. There's no way of approaching that beach from the land.”

And, based on his choice of words his play might have been the plan that Caroline had given him. She loved people who knew how to properly unwrap the gifts she had given them, “Why the fuck are we listening to him?” One of the crew said followed by other cries - other voices.

“Yeah, why?”

“We should be cutting your goddamn tongue out for all the lies you've told us.”

“Gentlemen!” Dufresne said, “No one is angrier about Mr. Flint's crimes than I. Which is why you must trust me when I ask you to hear what he has to say.”

Well, at least Dufresne was good for something. Flint continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “And even if it weren't for the soldiers, even if it weren't for the guns, there's a fucking warship watching over every inch of the bay… a fucking warship that has already killed half your number, a fucking warship that would prevent any approach to that beach via the sea. There's simply no way of stealing that gold. But there might be something else you can steal,” He paused for dramatic effect, “The fucking warship.”

God Caroline really did fucking love him. After that he laid out his plan. A small group of them would board the ship, and take it out from under their noses. With a lot of the men on the beach, he said, the ship may have less men onboard. He was quick to volunteer himself, and then with a quick raise of his hand Silver agreed to go too. That surprised Caroline but part of her reasoned that it might have been that he did not comprehend that Flint was serious. Caroline stepped forward, “I will go as well.”

Flint stared at her, “I said two men.”

“And I, as you can see, am a woman,” she gestured to herself, “And anyways. Someone needs to go to represent the crew and I doubt that’s either of you.”

That got a chuckle out of the men. Good. The plan was put to a vote and it passed rather easily. Not because the men trusted Flint, but because Caroline had - with her brutal winds, ensured that it was the only plan available to them. As they walked down the beach Flint looked at her out from the corner of his eye, “What the fuck was that?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“Someone needs to go to represent the crew? And I doubt that’s either of you? What the fuck did you mean by that?”

Oh. Her words had left him more rattled than Caroline had anticipated. Maybe he did care for her beyond just being a tool to find The Urca, and a body to sleep with, “What the fuck that was,” she told him, “Was one of us needing to remain in the good favor of the crew. Consider me your inside woman, if you will.”

“You’re far more devious that I originally assumed,” Silver told her.

“Pirate,” she grinned at him.

Still - the hardest part of this plan of hers which was also now a plan of Flints - was still yet to come. She continued to walk on, the beach looming ever closer.

\---

The warm water of the ocean parted as Caroline swum to the hulking ship in front of them. Even though the connection was severed it felt as if the water parted just for her. As her goal became a bit more of a reality, her mind kept turning to what she had done on Flint’s ship. Of the storm she had conjured. Caroline had continued to think of the connection with the sea as something that was removed from her completely, but it was clear that it was still there, just buried under walls of blue ink that she couldn’t completely parse. She had been relying too heavily on her direct connection, but surely there was instinct of some sort that she could lean on. She was still the ocean dammit, she wasn’t powerless like the kelp caught in a whale's mouth. And even then some kelp escaped. Wiggled through the gaps and openings, back into the ocean.

She continued to contemplate this as they reached the ship and began to climb up into the sleeping quarters. Kept contemplating it, as they crept past the sleeping beds and Silver almost alerted one of the slumbering men that was tucked into his hammock. Her consideration of kelp was broken however, when Flint slammed Silver up against one of the posts, far enough away from the sleeping enemy crew, and said “You almost got us killed.”

It wasn’t the way he said it but the way he looked at Silver when he said it. He was angry yes, but Caroline recognized that gaze. Had seen it a few days ago when Flint had angrily had her pinned to the bed’s edge with just his gaze. Interesting, “Almost. Almost,” Sliver tried to placate him.

“For a fucking bauble,” Flint pressed closer.

Even more interesting, “It's a boatswain's whistle,” Silver held the item up, “Look. Doesn't it make more sense for us to prompt the lookout to come down, than for us to go up there after him?” Silver pressed on and said with just a hint of being fed up, “You are truly amazing, you know that? We're both better off now than we were two minutes ago, yet you're angry about it because it didn't happen your way. Might you consider for a fucking moment that your distrust of me is completely unwarranted? I warned you about Billy. Was I right? I found you over Mr. Gates's body, and did I do anything but defend you? When you were sinking to the bottom of the sea, who do you imagine it was who dragged you onto that beach? Brace yourself, but I'm the only person within a hundred miles of here who doesn't want to see you dead.”

They had almost completely forgotten about her which was rather impressive for the pair of them. But the tension was so thick. Almost thicker than the ink on the damn tattoo on her hip. She leaned forward, “I too don’t want to see him dead, if my opinion counts for anything at all,” they both looked at her as if suddenly reminded that she was in the ship with them, “Also, and I hate to say this and sound improper but the last time someone looked at me like that I got fucked,” it was a leap - and an insanely bold one but Caroline was feeling adventurous - better to start planting the seeds now, “And since there is none of that to be going about right now. May we please consider getting the hell out of here?”

Flint seemed - well at little bit overwhelmed by what she had said - because clearly he knew what she meant. Silver also seemed to take it’s meaning but to a far lesser degree. However her words had broken the spell between Silver and Flint and with a grunt that bordered on a laugh Flint nodded. Above them, the men had begun to move about.

\---

The deck was nicely clear of men and Caroline so hated to abandon both Silver and Flint but as they crouched low to the ground to distract the person in the crows nest, she turned towards the door behind them. Gently, and so as to not alert either Silver and Flint she cracked it open and smuggled inside. The room that greeted her was familiar and blessedly empty. Hammocks for sleeping swung with the rocking of the ship, but beyond them in the back was the cabin she had been looking for - doors open - greeting her as if a friend. She stepped inside and shut them behind her, sealing herself in the room. With as much grace as she could, so as to not make the floor creak she stepped over to the journal logs and pulled down the book she already knew she was looking for.

Outside the door she could hear yelling but she cracked the log open at the spine and began to flip through the pages. It took her a little bit of time but finally she reached one that had her anchor tattoo on it and began to read:

“I was handed a most beautiful weapon today,” Caroline grit her teeth at being called a weapon, “They say she is the sea in chains and that I only need to whisper the command word to have the ocean at my beck and call. They have also given me information on how to undo a part of the binding should it need to be reapplied,” part was not the whole thing, but Caroline knew whatever little it did would have to be enough for now, “I have written the instructions for the weapon down on this and the following pages.”

There was more but Caroline already knew she had what she needed. She tore the page out, and then proceeded to tear out three more. Any mention of who she may truly be, she removed. Behind her she could hear even more shouting, and then Flint's gruff voice. She folded the pages tightly together and then slipped them into her shirt. Carefully she kept low to the floor and brushed up against the Captain’s desk where she opened a few drawers. No one knew she was here so better to get what she could. Inside one she found a loaded pistol with a few extra rounds, and the Captain’s bag of twelve coins. She pocketed all the items.

Now armed and with coin Caroline swiftly moved back to the shelves and returned the logs to where she found them. There was more yelling from outside and then the sound of a scuffle. She listened until it was done. Until leaving would have the greatest chance of safety. Caroline poked her head outside to find Flint standing over one of the men, “Hello,” they turned to look at her, “I think I missed something didn’t I?”

“Where the fuck did you come from?”

Caroline didn’t have time to answer, she could hear men above them moving around and she walked over to the door to the deck, and pressed her ear against it. As the men had run around she had counted about twelve or so men. Time to test her contemplation on instinct. Especially out of the eyesight of Flint and Silver. She cocked her pistol and then turned to Silver, “Lock the door behind me.”

She wretched it open and then slammed it shut behind her with her foot. As it boomed shut she swore she almost heard Flint say, “What the fu-” but the rest of it was cut-off.

In front of her a man holding a bench to be used as a battering ram, seemed rather surprised to see her and she fired cleanly between his eyes. Through and through. There was something to be said for the element of being caught unaware, Jack Sparrow had told her once. The other man next to him made to draw his pistol and she cocked the hammer of her own gun back, and shot him through the head as well. His scramble to grab his gun having left him open to attack.

Having surprised two men she slammed her body into the third one knocking him into the wall behind him. Caroline did this just as she felt the ship tilt so the impact of her shoulder hitting deep below into the man’s collar bone did just enough on impact to leave him a little out of sorts. The sea was on her side then. As it always was. From the quarterdeck she could hear as a man ran down the right stair to help his friends. So instead Caroline dashed around the corner and up the left one. A shot crossed over her back, just missing her, and impacted on the rail. She could hear more yelling as two of the men picked off where their friends had left off now that Caroline was no longer in front of the door. Up on the quarterdeck Caroline tried to do the math - two men dead, two men at the ram. That left eight men including the one she could feel running back up onto the quarterdeck. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. It was all a little fuzzy.

She drew her sword at the same time there was a crack of a gun from the rails and Joji climbed over. Immaculate timing really. Her sword clashed with that of her attacker. Countering two of his blows. Under her feet the ship shifted just a little in the water and Caroline rode the shift, just as she had with her elbow, matching her next sword swing with the shift, catching him off center giving her the perfect opportunity to cut him down. He toppled right over the rail, almost hitting Silver and Flint as they walked out of the same door Caroline had left just a minute or so ago.

She followed him dropping next to Flint, and stalked forward using her sword to lacerate a man who had stopped to reload his pistol. This was also good timing because just above her fire caught the rail and sent wood flying, right where she had been standing.

She had been right. The ocean still sang for her, even if she could not fully feel it. Instinct. Protection. Whatever you wanted to call it. It was all still there. Just buried under the surface.

All around her fighting had begun to wane as the men captured the ship. Worked to set it to sail. A cry went out when the ship finally got safe enough away from the blast zone. Then, they were at sea.

\---

They voted. By the closets of margins Silver and Flint had their sentence commuted. Seventeen to fifteen. When it was done, Caroline found Silver and Flint leaning on the rail staring out over the sea, after some sort of deep conversation of which she had not been a part of. She leaned on the rail with them and looked out against the waves, “If you want to know, I was one of the yeas. I was right, to keep the crew close.”

Flint only let out a gruff grunt, and she watched as he walked away, heading below deck, “Did you get what you wanted?” Silver asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Caroline answered.

“I see,” he said, “To be honest I wasn’t able to completely figure out why you came on this voyage. Not for the gold you said. So it must be something else, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure what. So I wanted to know if you, by some sheer luck, retrieved it.”

She turned to look out over the crew who were still celebrating having captured their prize, “Half of it,” she answered, “Maybe someday I’ll show you what it was.”

Caroline wanted to kiss him at that moment, the second time today, but thought better of it. The papers still pressed against her chest. When she found a place to store them. Maybe then she would come back and do so. There was a shout from one of the men at the ropes, her name. She pushed off the railing, gave Silver a small two fingered salute along with a shit eating grin, and walked to her post.

It wasn’t much. But it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caroline starts fiddling with the idea of Flint and Silver together this chapter! It's not much but this is the chapter she gives a tentative strike to see if she can start a fire. She also does some pretty clever maneuvering when it comes to the crew of The Walrus which we will see her play around with a bit more next chapter, a chapter which is probably one of my favorites (the episode it's based on is fantastic too which probably helped elevate the chapter). 
> 
> Once again, we're going to start this slow because I have a lot of pieces I need to set up but once that's done the story will get faster again, and we'll be off to the races.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Part 2.2: The Third of Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline puts her own plans in motion to help Flint and Silver.

By early in the morning Caroline had already decided that she loathed working for Dufresne. Not as much as she hated working for The English or the Spanish - not hardly - but he was a rather weak and ineffective captain. It was clear that he trusted her but the trust did not go very far. The other men though, seemed to enjoy her company a great deal more than him and it had given her a rare opportunity to bond with them. Caroline remembered rather well how the men of Teach’s ship had been towards her the whole time, how cold and distant they had been unless Peter dragged her into something, or they thought they could get the better of her through games. She was eating with one the crew having already finished morning duties as he said, “So you can fight,” he was eyeing the sword on her hip, “We all wondered if it was for show.”

“Men,” she said teasing, “You’ll find that nothing on me is for show.”

That sent them out into pearls of laughter. She smiled but the smile was quickly dropped as she noticed Flint sitting on a cannon rather dejectedly, like someone had pissed in his morning’s tea. Which she supposed they had, “Why do you not hate him?” Muldoon asked, “He’s been rather tyrannical.”

“It is the sea,” she answered, “It’s harsh and unforgiving. Sometimes you need the same to survive it.”

She stood up leaving her food behind and walked over to him. The men seemed to take her word as good enough for now, and she hoped that by talking to Flint she was not committing some sort of slight that would lead to the crew disliking her again. Not just because she enjoyed their company. Which she did. Keeping them in her favor was paramount to restoring some of their trust in Flint through her. If she needed to be the thread that connected him to them, she would be it. She realized belatedly that she was describing the role of quartermaster and hoped rather desperately that it never came to that. It was too much work honestly. Quartermasters were beholden to crews. Caroline rather preferred being beholden to Captains.

She sat down next to him around the same time that Silver arrived. Well, she had never said no to being part of a party, “Just to make sure,” she said to both of them, “We are here to discuss getting the crew back right?”

“The two of you could walk away from all this if you wanted.The moment we arrived at Nassau. Free to go anywhere you want. And yet you've offered to help me regain control of this crew. Why would you do that?”

“I know this is going to sound a fair bit irrational,” Caroline told him, “But I actually happen to like you. Which I hope was made apparent when - well - do I have to say it?.”

“I imagine Silver’s reasons here may be vastly different.”

Caroline thought Flint was selling himself short. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. Not when Silver was here, and he wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet, not hardly. Not to mention Caroline had already pushed her luck when the three of them had taken the ship, “You mean aside from the share of gold I'd get out of it?” Silver asked him.

“There are other ways of earning money, other crews,” Flint told him.

“If we're being honest, I don't really want to be on this crew, a day longer than is absolutely necessary,” Silver answered.

“Is there a reason for your derision?” Caroline asked him.

“Because I don't want to be a pirate. I'm not interested in the life. Not interested in the fighting, not interested in the ships. I don't care much for the sea while we're on the subject,” those words stung a little bit but Caroline wondered if he would feel different if he knew, and she couldn’t hate him for not knowing, “But being a pirate on this crew for a little while longer, it offers me an opportunity I don't believe I can find anywhere else on Earth… one big prize. And with it, freedom. From water, from Randall, from hunger, from wages… from you.”

His words registered and Caroline let out a bit of a sigh. She had more to work on then maybe she had originally anticipated. The work of the sea was never done, and she’d be damned if she didn’t make Silver a believer by the time this was all over. Both men turned to look at her, “Sorry,” she said, “Just thinking,” she scooted closer, “In just under two days we will be back at Nassau, and both of you will be dumped from the ship, which it seems neither of you want despite Silver’s claims to hate the sea. So what exactly pray tell - is the plan?”

“In less than two days, I intend to be a captain again,” oh good that meant that Flint’s mind had already started doing what it had proved to do well at the beach - making a grand plan out of nothing. “You were right to stay on the crew's good side.”

“Thank you.”

It felt good to hear him say it after his last comment about her choices had been a bit more abrasive. Flint looked at Silver, “You, I suggest find a way to do the same.”

From across the room Muldoon yelled at her, “Are you coming back or are you just going to hang around those traitors all day?”

“Will you make it worth my while?”

There was an eruption of laughter from the table, “Come over here and you’ll find out!” Muldoon called back.

Caroline tapped her knuckles on the ship wood twice. Well, this conversation had come to an end then. She had been enjoying the company, and their hushed planning. But if she wanted to keep her good standing she could learn to embrace her old cursed lover’s favorite adage. Part of the ship, part of the crew. Caroline stood up to follow the sound of her name. Davy Jones would be proud.

\---

It was nearing mid-day and the decks of the ship were mostly clear of crew thanks to a decent enough wind that required a minimal amount of men to man it. Caroline was below in the gun deck having almost finished checking the tethering to make sure the guns didn’t roll back and crush anyone if they ended up hitting a bigger wave than anticipated. She tightened the knot when a shadow fell over her and she turned to see Logan standing above her. He had been one of the men most against Flint, and one of the men Caroline had made note of to always remain friendly with. She tilted her head to look at him rather than stand up, “May I help you?”

“I heard your conversation,” he told her, “With Muldoon.” For a second she thought he was talking about the one in regards to Flint but then he said, “About your sword work.”

She stood now curious about what he was going to say to her, “I stand by what I said.”

“I’m sure you do,” he paused, “I wanted to see if your boast was accurate, or if you were actually full of shit.”

Caroline hadn’t made a boast of any sort that she remembered. Although she was sure that some men might not see it that way, “You want to duel? I’m not exactly sure if that’s smart, considering men might assume we are fighting for real and I’m trying to avoid their ire. Considering occasionally chosen company.”

It was then that Caroline realized that he was holding something. He handed one to her and she looked down at the wooden sword. With a quirk of an eyebrow she looked up at him, “Some ships have them on board for newer crew members to train. I found these while getting to know their sword stock. I thought we could use them.”

She stepped back so she was standing near the back of the gun-deck close to the stairs. Logan eyed her warily, sword out in front of him before he stepped forward making the first move. It was a simple strike, so Caroline parried it easily and then circled round him so they had traded positions. He struck again, harder this time, but Caroline’s sword arm stood firm when she parried this one as well. By now their sounds had gotten the attention of the crew above deck, and a few of them had gathered round to watch, “What on earth is going on here?” De Groot took a gander down at them.

“Just a bit of practice,” Caroline answered.

Caroline felt the ship tip and used how it leaned left into the water to press her advantage when she swung at him forcing him to block her left aligned swing, “It better just be practice. If either of you get hurt it puts the ship at risk if we end up getting boarded.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt her,” Logan said at the same time Caroline said, “I’ll make sure to go easy on him.”

That seemed to please De Groot and he continued to watch with the men. Below Caroline parried two more of Logan’s attacks and did her best to unclench her jaw. It seemed that despite what Muldoon had claimed below, some of the men still did think that her sword was mostly for show. Caroline let out a breath. She never fought well when she was angry. Despite it being such an often visited emotion for her. Instead she let the joy of the fight course through her, and she began to vary her attacks using the constantly swaying ship to her advantage when she could. As the battle went on, her attacks grew stronger and bolder. Her once clenched jaw turned into pure glee. She was going to win. Under the harsh sun she did not relent, and now that they were both becoming worn out from the back and forth, she could see Logan had grown impressed. Good.

Her next attack used the full force of the sway of the ship and Logan staggered backwards. But it did not stop him, he lunged forward. It was sloppy. With a quick repositioning of Logan sword blade using her own, she swung across bringing her blade close to his ribs, and stopped, “I think,” Caroline said with a smile plastered on her face, “That is game.”

He laughed, “Who taught you how to sword fight?”

There were too many people to name and too many names he might recognize, so instead Caroline answered, “My family,” and then told him, “If you lunge like you did back there again you’d have found a real blade between your ribs. It’s always best to aim straight and true.”

When she looked up most of the men seemed impressed with how she had bested their swordsmith, so Caroline figured she must have done a bit of an alright job. She handed the sword to Logan just as her stomach growled, “Was that your stomach?” Logan asked.

All the work on deck had made her hungry, “I believe it was,” she clasped Logan on the shoulder, “It’s singing quite the tune. Could eat a whole badly cooked pig if I’m honest.”

He chuckled and a smile passed between them. With a turn she made for further underground, and the galley. She was famished.

\---

Downstairs below deck, she maneuvered to the kitchen where she found Silver hunched over a tankard, while Flint watched on in a way where Caroline wasn’t sure if he was a little impressed, a little worried, or just a little annoyed. Maybe all three. Clearly she had missed something. She grabbed her own mug as she looked over at Silver, “What happened here?”

“We’re bonding,” Silver told her.

“Over what?”

“Silver’s attempts to win the crew back,” Flint told her with a smile that reminded Caroline of a shark. Impressed and amused then. Not annoyed, “It’s been the highlight of my day so far.”

“Well,” Caroline poured herself a drink, “As long as my two men are getting along.”

Neither of them said anything about her comment about my two men and she grinned into her mug as she took a sip. Wouldn’t do to let them see how pleased she was that the comment had gone unremarked upon. Between the three of them, that was as good as a name signed upon a peace agreement, “Getting along might be a little generous,” Silver finally stood up but Caroline could see that he was still in pain.

“The two of you can pretend that you don’t at least somewhat like each other for as long as you want then. Boats circling in the night.”

Flint coughed, “Where have you been if you don't mind the inquiry?”

“Beating Logan in a mock sword fight, if you would believe it to hear it,” she stopped to consider something, “I hate to bring your attempts down a peg, but I think this crew actually likes me? Respect is a mystery to me.”

“It’s a mystery to all of us,” Silver told her, “You never know just how you’re going to earn it. It also comes with so many other attachments that I’d just as much rather stay away from it.”

“And yet here you are rushing headlong into it,” Caroline knew she couldn’t stay much longer, the more time she lingered the more the men would worry that she was being swayed, “I cannot wait to see the show.”

Caroline tipped her mug at him and went to rejoin the men in the galley despite everything in her telling her to go back and stay. There was a mission here, a plan. She could not lose sight of it until the end goal had been reached. Unfortunately.

\---

Much of Silver’s attempts to become necessary to the crew involved them punching him after he insulted them, and the things they were currently doing aboard the ship. But Caroline could see the genius in it. Silver was appearing the court jester but he was also slowly winning them over by humor, and by force of will. A lot of the men found what he did funny, him picking apart their crew-mates with such relentless and targeted precision. And their enjoyment of his mockery towards their friends, was slowly warming them to Silver’s side. It was interesting how the human psyche worked.

He was currently standing after having been punched down by one of the men. Instead of getting up to help him though she continued to watch on, raising an eyebrow at the man across from her who snorted, “Next item…” he stomped upon the ground when he said it, “A member of the third watch, who shall remain nameless, entered the pen late last night sometime after three bells. Though no one actually saw him enter or exit, evidence of his presence was clear, as upon inspection, the dairy goat's anus was irritated from overuse.”

This agitated the man who must have done the fucking, and he stood up to punch Silver again. Laying him sprawled on the floor. Caroline who had been mid sip spit all of her drink back into her mug and said rather loudly, in the most accusatory - I can’t believe you fucked an animal - someone please do something voice, “You fucked the dairy goat?”

The same man she had shared a look with before, shared a second look with her, and then he got out of his seat and punched the accused man square across the jaw much in the same way Silver had been punched earlier. Cries went up among the crew as they joined in, and Silver looked up to share a look with Flint and then both of their eyes traveled across the room to meet hers. Silver’s eyes shone, and a small but impossible to miss smile graced his lips. Caroline gave the two of them a small cheer with the raise of her mostly now empty rum mug.

Well played indeed.

\---

The cry of ‘sail’ had gone off not moments after and the crew had rushed to deck to observe the ship they were coming upon. Caroline was slower to go but eventually stepped onto the wood of the ship deck, just a little behind Flint. By the look that he shared with Dufresne, this was his plan then. Like Silver’s plan before it, Caroline was interested in watching it play out although she currently had no plans to be a part of it until the time came for her to strategically do so. Dufresne seemed excited though. The prospect of hunting this ship would be almost impossible to pass up for a new captain trying to prove himself, Caroline thought. Just as the idea floated past her as so much refuse did when a ship was sunk, Dufresne cried, “Anyone up for a little hunting?”

The crew let out the loudest cry as they took the bait, and Caroline thought that this plan was rather wicked. There was no way a man like Dufresne could carry out the taking of this ship, there would be a failure somewhere. Maybe not as they approached, maybe not when the ship surrendered but somewhere. The possibilities were endless. She walked over to Flint who was still looking at Dufresne, “When do you think he will fail?”

He turned to her, “I haven’t decided yet,” he nodded towards the crew, “Help them, you’ve already conversed with me enough.”

Message clear Caroline swung down onto the main deck. To anyone listening it would have sounded like a rude dismissal but Caroline could read between the lines. She had been too kind to him at the wrong moment. She couldn’t afford to give the crew any sort of idea of what they were up to.

The signaling of flags seemed to go well enough. Dufresne knew just when to raise the black to get the ship they were following to give up running. That was one notch to zero. The boarding went fine as well - but staring at the way Dufresne boarded the ship, at how he walked as if he was missing half a stride, as if he was just still a little unsure - that’s when Caroline knew where things were going to go wrong.

Caroline’s father was not a frightening man on paper. He had kind eyes, and hadn’t been able to strip the English navy officer out of him completely. But his name - oh the whisper of the name Norrington - sent shivers through any man's spine. When he boarded and people heard his name shared among his crew, they got into lock step and just folded. Dufresne was not Captain Flint. Dufresne had no reputation. In waters as hotly covered by pirates such as these - his name was testament to announcing that he was easy prey.

She couldn’t see it. But she heard it. A shot went off across on the other ship. Chaos quickly unfolded and Dufresne was left floundering in it. He returned to their ship, quickly as he could and men began to fight over what to do, “We must get underway!” De Groot was saying and Caroline watched as Dufresne did nothing.

“Why the fuck are we waiting for him?” Logan yelled.

“Because he's in charge here,” De Groot answered.

But it was very clear that he wasn’t. Flint stepped between them and began barking orders. Some of the crew gave over to his orders, easily cutting them free of the vessel, those who Caroline suspected were more loyal. But others seemed unsure. Seemed stuck on what to do. Flint walked over and looked down into the gunhold, “Gun crews at the ready!”

They hesitated for just a moment and then Caroline looked down into the gunhold and reiterated Flint’s commands with as much force in her voice as possible, “Gun crews at the ready!”

A few of them looked at her and nodded. Some just snapped to obedience automatically. Caroline could command space if she wanted to. She was her father’s daughter after all. However the way they reacted, proved to her that her quest to keep the trust and respect of the crew had worked. As the men followed Flint’s orders and paid very little attention to her, Caroline walked up the stairs to stand next to him, “Respect and camaraderie can do very interesting things I’ve discovered,” then she kept walking so she could look over the rail and watch the ship sink.

All things being equal, today had been a very good day. Not that the day was completely over. The night still loomed ahead. The night, and a vote for the captaincy.

\---

Caroline passed by a defeated Dufresne as she walked to the captain's cabin. He stopped to look at her, his eyes downcast, and ruined. Caroline did not regret it. Men who had no tolerance for the true hardship of the sea were not made to be captains. He looked at her as they passed and then said, “Tell me the truth,” she knew whatever he asked that she wouldn’t, not in the way he was hoping, “Were you in on it from the start? Keeping the trust of the men? Like some sort of sea siren?”

“I respect Flint, but the crew are my friends. I only want what’s best for them.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, with a shaky finger. Her answer hadn’t actually been an answer. Instead of trying to get a further truth out of her he pursed his lips and just kept walking. In the back of the room Caroline pushed open the door to the cabin and didn’t knock. Flint looked up at her, from his place behind the desk, “Finished carousing with the crew now that the vote is done?”

“I thought I would come check on you captain. Considering you won by one,” Caroline raised an eyebrow, “Incredibly convenient for you.”

“Dufresne was terribly upset over the whole thing,” he said.

“You know,” Caroline walked around the desk so she could sit on it, staring at Flint, their faces mere inches from each other, “I find I don’t much care about how Dufresne fucking feels.”

He stepped just an inch closer and Caroline reached out to hold onto the edges of his coat and trail her fingers down them, until she tugged him just a little bit closer, “I’ve found that you are incredibly more cruel than I originally assumed.”

He settled between her legs and Caroline grinned up at him, “Only to my enemies, is that a problem for you?”

Instead of answering her he took her face in his hands, and began to kiss her. Which Caroline decided was a good enough answer as any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter. It's the first one with a bit of allocation of dialogue, which you will see occasionally from time to time, but I especially love it in this chapter. It's really interesting to me how two lines - "You fucked the dairy goat?" and “Gun crews at the ready!” can, once given to one person be turned into lines that allow that one person to help Flint and Silver - even if it's just in a very simple and small way. Which you see here.
> 
> I also like that Caroline gets to have a bit of fun with the crew. Yes some of it is calculated, but I think she really likes them. So she can tell Dufresne that she's doing it for the best of the crew, and mean it, but also not tell the whole truth.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
